


Dribble, Drabble, Drazzle and Drozzle

by Zip001



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms
Genre: Almost Famous Remix, Alternate Universe - Swimming, Asphyxiation, Atonement - Freeform, Bring it On Remix, Burlesque, Camelot Remix, Captain America remix, Cherry stem trick, Conan the Barbarian/Red Sonja Remix, Date Auction, Depression, Ex Machina Remix, F/F, F/M, First Time, Fluff, Food Fetish, Footloose AU, Game Night, Gigolo, Grimm Fairy Tales - Freeform, I Dream of Jeannie remix, Lap Sex, LotR AU, M/M, Multi, My homage to In-n-out, OITNB Remix, Olympics AU, Out of Sight remix, Panties stealing, Pole Dancing, Resurrection, Rimming, Show Girls, Solid Gold Dancers, Spanking, The Notebook remix, The Vikings remix, Unwanted groping, Wedding Fluff, cross dressing, hangover au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-06
Updated: 2016-09-17
Packaged: 2018-07-12 16:07:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 73
Words: 66,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7112899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zip001/pseuds/Zip001
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>These unfilled prompts are ones I wrote and decided to fill myself from earlier closed rounds. I felt uncomfortable with reposting and filling prompts in closed rounds (especially my own) in new rounds (not sure if a no-no but felt it was frowned upon).</p><p>Also includes fills for really awesome prompts from others as well as my Olympics AU series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Listing of prompts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not a chapter - just a listing.

**New prompts**

~~I'd love to read something pure in Sansa/Lancel style. I take anything but modern storyline with stuff like mistaken selfie in underwear or "filthy" chat at 3am. (ugh, that EXCELENT english of mine --"). Would you mind, if it was in Lancel POV??~~

~~My second selfish wish will be to read something less pure about couple Sansa/Smalljon. I just love the way you couple them. Doesn't mind how many time I read it. I drink in every word of it.~~  
~~Hope you descript this all (poiting to the text). Beside, I will read everyone of your prompts nevertheless, so... :D~~

~~Happy ending to less pure Smalljon verse~~

~~"Westeros version of a makeover" - HAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA!! (gets vision of modern day AU where Sansa drags Sandor to a beauty parlor run by Elder Brother. Sandor sitting there wanting to murder everyone while the Elder Brother is putting foils in his hair because Sansa thinks some chocolate in the black will look good -- OMG! Someone write me a story?? Please??)~~

~~Song inspiration for Sansa, Sara Bareillis' "She Used to Be Mine" - lovely performance in Tonys 2016 resonated with me.~~  
" ~~She's imperfect but she tries~~  
~~She is good but she lies~~  
~~She is hard on herself~~  
~~She is broken and won't ask for help~~  
~~She is messy but she's kind~~  
~~She is lonely most of the time~~  
~~She is all of this mixed up~~  
~~And baked in a beautiful pie~~  
~~She is gone but she used to be mine"~~

~~Jojen/Bran  
Love is love~~

~~Continuation of prior drabbles of Ser Arthur and his lady Sansa~~

~~Sansa and Aemon Targaryen, the Dragonknight.~~

~~Tywin/Margaery with a little bit of past Tywin/Olenna (kind of where Tywin ends up marrying the granddaughter of the woman he once loved)~~

~~But I also love the idea of the first time of Sansa, when Sandor grew up in the North. I ask for more similar stories :)~~

~~More Sandor as Conan the Barbarian~~

~~song inspiration: down by the river by delta rae. i get shivers hearing the song - it is so powerful. http://youtu.be/ji5y9NF8rXg~~

~~Continuation of Willas sexual healing/sex surrogacy~~

~~OMG ----can you IMAGINE if Sansa got dumped into ME and the Fellowship found her? And she saw Boromir and was like "woah....you look just like a younger, hotter version of my dad!" LOL LOL LOL And he was so smitten by her....and her apparent daddy kink....that he resisted the Ring and lived? OMG!!!~~

~~* The war of the five kings never happened and Joffery and Sansa got married. Aegon invades and deposes King Joffery. But he's not sure what to do with the newly widowed Queen Sansa? The common folk love her and she has powerful allies so he can't kill her. He decides to woo the Dowager Queen.~~

~~Inspired by 2016 Olympics, including the pre-Game trials. Sansa is the Olympic hopeful, Jon her loving boyfriend, Arya an alternate, and Stannis her Olympics head coach.~~

**My prompts**

~~Bran/Shireen (eventual) Bone Collector (the Movie)  
Bran is a paraplegic forensic criminology expert; and Shireen, a patrol cop, is his "legs".~~

~~Rickon/Shireen, spanking  
Rickon has been a bad boy...~~

~~Petyr/Sansa, groping (NSFW - no consent LBR)  
"hands on" lessons....~~

~~Sansa and Aegon VI, Salome - Dance of Seven Veils~~  
~~As a reward for dancing for him, Aegon grants her request for Petyr's head on a platter~~

~~Jon/Any, Twister  
Awkward Jon - having a boner while playing twister. Your choice re his playmate(s) (Sansa, Jeyne P, Margaery, Loras, Sam, etc., or any combo).~~

~~Theon and Jeyne Poole and Sansa Stark, playing maester~~  
~~He takes care of their boo boos.~~

 ~~Sansa, Loras, Margaery, Any - Solid Gold Dancers~~  
~~I just want some crackfic (funny, or smutty, or outrageous or all three) involving the Westeros cast in gold spandex, gyrating and shaking what their mama gave them!!!!~~

~~Melisandre/Stannis, anal licking or rimming  
See subject line (consensual please).~~

~~StannisxSansa, SansaxJon, Camelot~~  
~~Stannis - King Arthur~~  
~~Sansa - Guinevere~~  
~~Jon - Lancelot~~  
~~Aftermath after the King discovers their affair.~~

 ~~Jon/Sansa, Enchanted (the movie)~~  
~~Banished by an evil queen, Princess Sansa from a fairy-tale magical world lands onto Jon, a young district attorney, in modern Manhattan, where magic is lacking.~~

 ~~Robb/Margaery, The Notebook (movie)~~  
~~Noah = Robb~~  
~~Allie = Margaery~~  
~~Summer fling or something more?~~

 ~~Robb/Margaery, Captain America (movie)~~  
~~Steve = Robb~~  
~~Peggy = Margaery~~  
~~First meeting~~

~~Sansa x Sandor, Red Sonja/Conan the Barbarian (movie or comics)  
muscle fetish - they like to get oiled up~~

~~Jaime x Sansa, the movie Out of Sight  
Jaime, the most successful bank robber in the country, busts out of jail, and finds himself stealing something far more precious than money - smart and sexy Federal Marshal Sansa's heart.~~

~~Margaery x Robb, Footloose AU  
A big city teenage girl moves to a small town where rock music has been banned, and her rebellious spirit shakes up the heart of a young preacher's son.~~

~~Robb, Jon, Theon and Jory (?), The Hangover AU  
Four Northern boys celebrating in Vegas Robb's upcoming nuptials to Myrcella - what could go wrong????? Multiple fills with different escapades welcome and appreciated!~~

~~Starks, The Brady Bunch AU~~  
~~Nan = Alice Nelson~~  
~~Ned = Mike Brady~~  
~~Catelyn = Carol Brady~~  
~~Robb = Greg Brady~~  
~~Sansa = Marcia Brady~~  
~~Jon = Peter Brady~~  
~~Bran = Jan Brady (male)~~  
~~Rickon = Bobby Brady~~  
~~Arya = Cindy Brady~~  
~~First day of school of high school for Sansa (freshman with two older bros. looking out for her, scaring cute guys away)~~

 ~~Jaime x Cersei, song inspiration~~  
~~Ceelo Green's Fool for Love~~  
~~"That deep, that sweet, that soft and that wet that fire, that funky stuff~~  
~~That up and that down, that front and that back, baby I can't seem to get enough~~  
~~Ooo Baby let me do it, let me do it 'til I'm satisfied ahh ahh~~  
~~Baby now please baby I ain't got no more pride"~~

~~Margaery x Any, Date auction  
As the organizer of the popular date (and maybe more) auction with Westeros most eligible bachelors, Margaery has all the odds stacked for her as she determines the "random" ordering of the "mystery" men. Which man is she going to raise her paddle for tonight?????~~

~~Jon and any Stark, the Snark Family  
Jon realizes he is adopted when even baby Rickon throws shade and seemingly sweet Sansa gives her patented eye rolls and "As ifs".~~

~~Tywin/Sansa, food fetish  
like 9 1/2 weeks but 11 (a la Spinal Tap).~~

~~Jon/Sansa, Silver Springs (song inspiration)~~  
~~"You could be my silver spring...."~~

~~Sandor x Ros, first time  
If Sandor grew up in the North, the men chipped in for his first time.~~

~~Sam and Jon, wingmen  
At a bar, shennigans ensue. ~~

~~Peter/Sansa, marking~~  
~~Narrowing his eyes when he sees her laughing with Harry, he knows she is his - she has the marks to prove it.~~

~~Stannis x Margaery, cherry stem trick  
When the bartender handed him his drink, he scowled. This frou frou drink with an umbrella AND a plastic sword pierced with two cherries was not what he ordered or so he thought....~~

~~Margaery/Sansa, pole dancing~~  
~~Wanting to really work on her core strength, Sansa signs up for Margaery's one-on-one pole dancing class.~~

~~Sandor/Sansa, the Vikings (TV show)  
Their wedding night and she has a knife she hid.~~

~~Ned/Catelyn, Stevie Wonder's "As"  
Ned watching Catelyn (with their babes, being feisty, etc.) thinking "I'll be loving you always."~~

~~Myranda x Anyone, Burlesque~~  
~~she knows how to put on a show~~

 ~~Quentin, MyrcellaxOberyn, groupie~~  
~~Inspired by the movie "Almost Famous".~~

 ~~Jon/Sansa, shavedown~~  
~~She used to wax before and now it is their favorite ritual before her big swim meets!~~

 ~~Starklings, game night~~  
~~The Starks and all their friends do game night. Who cheats at Monopoly? Who's the Uno master? Who constantly knock down the tower when playing Jenga?~~

 ~~Sansa/Any, Grimm Fairy Tales~~  
~~Multiple fills strongly encouraged. Can be funny, gothic, floofy, sexy (smirk), etc. Your choice! Thanks!~~

 ~~Jon x Sansa, Actors AU~~  
~~The director tells the lead actors that in their love scene, they need to try Strasberg's method of acting.~~

 ~~Tywin/Joanne~~  
~~David Bowie's powerful version of Wild as the Wind.~~  
~~"Give me more~~  
~~Than one caress~~  
~~Satisfy this~~  
~~Hungriness~~  
~~Let the wind~~  
~~Blow through your heart~~  
~~For wild is the wind~~  
~~Wild is the wind"~~

 ~~Margaery/Robb, Netflix and chill~~  
~~Robb likes movies but he even likes more what he doesn't see on the screen~~

 ~~Margaery x Stannis, I Dream of Jeanie AU~~  
~~Tony = Stannis~~  
~~Jeannie = Margaery~~

 ~~Margaery x Tywin, Sugar Mama~~  
~~After retiring after many years of being the young buck gigolo and now a proprietor of a discrete and high end male escort service, Tywin is pleasantly surprised about the personal request of his new patron, Margaery.~~

 ~~Margaery and Sansa, Showgirls AU~~  
~~Nomi (up and coming talent): Sansa~~  
~~Cristal (current marquis dancer): Margaery~~

 ~~Margaery and Sansa, Bring it On~~  
~~Torrance = Sansa~~  
~~Missy = Margaery~~  
~~I would love it if it turns out to be love story between the two (with a lot of hot sex) but gal pal friendship is awesome too!~~

 ~~Westeros Ladies, "Orange is the New Black" AU~~  
~~Choose any or many or few or all female characters (for example, Cersei, Ros, Asha, Sansa, Arya, Margaery, Olenna, Catelyn, Myrcella, Val, Ygritte, Elia, Arianne, Sands sisters, Dacey and/or her sisters, etc.)~~

 ~~Westeros Men, "Lord of the Flies" AU~~  
~~Any or many or all or few. Your choice (for example, Rickon, Tywin, Addam, Davos, Stannis, Robb, Smalljon, etc.)~~

~~Cersei/Jaime, breath control  
Jaime likes to hold his breath~~

~~Sandor/Sansa, cross dressing  
Sandor wants a knight to save him.~~

~~Beric x Jeyne Poole, body worship  
He worships at his temple religiously.~~

~~Jon Snow/Any, "Joe Schmo" (TV) or "The Truman Show" (movie)  
Everyone is in on the secret by Jon who knows nothing.~~

~~Sweetrobin/Sansa  
They win the iron throne and their relationship evolves from mother/child, to friends, and finally to lovers. Your choice whethet theirs is an "open" relationship at any or all stages of their relationship.~~

~~JonxSansa, cheating AU  
Married Sansa and Jon - your choice on who cheats (can be both), canon or modern and tone.~~

~~Rhaegar and Lyanna and Elia (ex), Dynasty AU~~  
~~Rhaegar = Blake~~  
~~Lyanna = Krystle (new wife)~~  
~~Elia = Alexis (Blake's ex)~~  
~~Rhaenys = Fallon (stepdaughter)~~  
~~Aegon = Steve (stepson)~~  
~~Arthur Dayne = Michael (chauffeur and one of Fallon's lovers)~~  
~~Robert = Matthew (Blake's competitor and Krystle's ex)~~  
~~Cersei = Claudia (Matthew's fragile and unhappy wife)~~  
~~Any family angst or Elia/Lyanna b*tchfight or jealousy or forbidden love - your choice. Multiple fills appre~~ ciated!

~~Tyrion / Any  
Tyron has a fatal disease and wants to make amends before he dies to the women in his life - Tysha (first wife), ghost of Shae (mistress), Sansa (second wife), and Cersei (his sister). Multiple fills encouraged and appreciated!~~

~~Jorah/Daenerys, Viserys  
Ex Machina tells the story of programmer Caleb Smith (Jorah) who is invited by his employer, the eccentric billionaire Nathan Bateman (Viseryd), to administer the Turing test to an android with artificial intelligence, named Ava (Daenerys).~~


	2. Dance of Seven Veils (Aegon/Sansa)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My prompt
> 
> Sansa and Aegon VI, Salome - Dance of Seven Veils
> 
> As a reward for dancing for him, Aegon grants her request for Petyr's head on a platter.

Sansa heard all of the rumors about the new king - that he was the Prince that was Promised, seven foot tall, silver haired, violet eyes and riding a black dragon; that he had insatiable appetite like his dragon who was known to feed on at least twenty sheep a day; and that if you did not please him, he would feed you to his hungry dragon but if you sated the dragon king, he would grant a wish.

She guffawed at the last piece as she knew better than most that wishes never come true. Sansa was once a delicate northern princess beloved by all (even by her sister) and the golden prince's betrothed; and now she is just one of the girls in one of Petyr's brothels. Her value had since been diminished after her maidenhood was taken by a wealthy patron; and now her customers were mainly the rough Dragon King soldiers who ironically paid her new house with Lannister gold, the spoils of war like she was.

Morning was her favorite time of the day, the time that was too early for customers and the other girls. She could be finally be alone and sometimes remember of happy thoughts, of her family, her home, and her Lady. Clutching a warm cup of tea she made, she wrapped herself in blankets and sang Northern songs to remind herself of who she once was, instead of who she was now, Alayne Waters.

Her moment of calm was disrupted by the Dragon King soldiers streaming into the house and grabbing every girl. Unlike some of the other girls, she knew better to struggle. Her captor, one of her customers, held her tenderly and looked at her almost apologetically. She understood - the Dragon King was hungry again even after taking all the girls in Chataya's higher end brothel.

Sansa was scrubbed clean and "clothed" in what appeared to be filmy veils that instead of covering her, accentuated her every curve. The ladies who attended her, clucked appreciatively at her rich auburn hair once they washed the dark dye away. They left her wavy hair down. And before she was to be presented to the King, one of the ladies dabbed perfume on her wrists, her collar bone and between the deep valley of her breasts. 

Besides the veils and perfume, she surprisingly had nothing on, no ash to make her blue eyes larger, no berry based paint to make her cheeks rosy or her plump lips red, no long delicate chains to bind her or choke her. Noting her surprise at the bareness of her face, one of the ladies whispered, "The King sees all truly - he would neither be tempted nor deceived by artifice."

She was led to his throne room. Only at that moment did her fears and memories return to her, remembering her strippings and beatings at the hands of a mad King. But she must be brave, there was naught they could truly take from her that was of any worth, her most prized possessions being her memories.

Looking up at the new King, she saw that he was only a man, not a god. He desired her - she could smell it and saw how his cock hardened as she drew nearer. He was like all the men, the men who made her promises but never kept them.

"Lady, you shall dance for me; and if you please me, you are granted one wish," the King pronounced as she was brought closer until she was between his knees.

Sansa started to sing but was stopped by the King slapping her ass hard.

"Lady, I did not say you could sing yet although by nightfall, your throat will be sore," the King laughed at his own joke. He grabbed her ass and rubbed her cunt against him.

Undulating her body, she turned around as the King rubbed his face into the plumpness of her ass. She felt his tongue but knew better than to stop dancing. She removed the first sheer veil covering her stomach, leaving her with only six more.

Pirouetting, she turned around to face the King. Her arms were weaving towards the heavens as if pleading to the gods as she kneeled as if in supplication before her King, her nose brushing so delicately his jutting cock that the King released from his pants. Another veil was removed as the King moaned as she licked his length. He grabbed her red hair and twisted it into his hands, trying to direct her mouth to his cock.

"Patience," she whispered and touched his hands in quiet supplication. He released her so she could dance once more.

She rubbed her barely covered full breasts against his face, his chest and his leaking cock. With both hands, she removed both veils covering her chest as he watched mesmerized as her breasts swayed to her graceful movements of her hips. His hands gripped her ass, and pulled off the two veils covering her round ass. 

Sansa whispered, "My King, would you truly grant my wish, my heart's desire?"

"Please..." he whimpered as she grabbed his cock and pumped it to the rhythm to her quick hip swivels that she made as she went up and down again.

She teased him until he begged for more. 

"Yes, I promise you everything and anything," he shouted.

Removing the last veil covering her cunt, which was wet from rubbing against his hard body and from her fingers, she slowly sat down on the King, positioning him inside her, and slowly grounded against him as he moaned with her delicate fingers in his mouth. They picked up speed with him rising hard with a snap to meet her driving down. They both were grunting and shouting as he gripped her hard until they both shouted upon release.

The Court silently watched her dance. One man, Lord Petyr Baelish, the King's new master of coin, saw her eyes flickering towards him at the beginning and began to move to the back to escape. But he could not leave as he wanted to see what was underneath those veils - what all other men could touch but what she would never allow him to touch. Petyr could not help but imagine himself as the King with his wild vixen Cat riding him hard, watching her full breasts bouncing and her face reddened with exertion and arousal. Because he was entranced by her dance, the Mockingbird was finally caught when the dancer of the seven veils pointed her finger at him.


	3. Silver Springs (Past Jon/Sansa)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon/Sansa, Silver Springs (song inspiration)
> 
> "You could be my silver spring...."

Every time the beginning chords of "Silver Springs" is played, Jon is filled with such regrets.

Jon loved Sansa so much but while she loved him or professed to love him, she did not need him. She had a slew of girl friends, her sweet Jeyne, her tough Mya, and her randy Myranda, who seemingly provided her everything her beautiful soul needed. She could have any man and did, if she wanted. She was the one in control. While she always spoke graciously, she was never to be questioned. When she said 'no, thank you,' it meant no, never maybe. She did not want kids, she did not want to be saddled and she wanted to be free. 

It was not enough to be wanted by the most beautiful gypsy queen - he wanted her to need him to live, to breathe, like how he needed her so much. Even now, after all those years, in their reunion tour, he cannot look at her without losing his breath. She haunts him.

So he wanted to make her jealous, fucking one groupie after another and then trying to fuck Myranda who surprisingly (or not so surprisingly) pushed him off of her. That was the final straw; and he knew that she would never come back to him. He wished he was smarter, he wished he was stronger, he wished he accepted what she was willing to give him. 

Jon knows this now as she sings to him about his stupidity. 

She sings, "Did you say she was pretty.... And did you say that she loves you...?"

None of the other girls, many he did not even know their names other that they had the same color hair as his only true love, were as pretty as her - none ever compared to her. None loved him like she did. He knew nothing she sadly told him that day she walked out.

He pleads, "Give me one more chance."

Sansa always looks at him hard after that chorus and then slowly and sadly shakes her head no. 

The stage light dims when the last strains of the song are played. The song is always the last song of their show. 

Sansa walks away, leaving him alone and broken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was obviously inspired the concert footage of this song on youTube. When Stevie sang to Lyndsay, the look in her eyes, it just killed me.
> 
> "You could be my silver spring....  
> Blue-green..colors flashin'  
> I would be your only dream.....  
> Your shinin' autumn....ocean crashin'....  
> Don't say that shes pretty....  
> and did you say that she loves you...?  
> Baby I don't wanna know.
> 
> So I'll begin not to love you...  
> Turn around, you'll see me runnin'  
> I'll say I loved you years ago...  
> And tell myself you never loved me....No......  
> Did you say she was pretty....  
> And did you say that she loves you...?  
> Baby, I don't wanna know....Oh no.....  
> And can you tell me...was it worth it....?  
> Really, I don't wanna know..
> 
> Time cast a spell on you...but you won't forget me...  
> I know I could have loved you but you would not let me....  
> Time cast a spell on you...but you won't forget me...  
> (I was such a fool)  
> I know I could've loved you, but you would not let me..  
> (Give me one more chance)  
> I'll follow you down 'til the sound of my voice will haunt you..  
> (Haunt you)  
> You'll never get away from the sound of the woman that loves you.."


	4. Kissing boo boos (Theon, Sansa and Jeyne)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theon and Jeyne Poole and Sansa Stark, playing maester
> 
> He takes care of their boo boos.

As he rounded the corner, he heard the little girls crying. Sweet beautiful Sansa was bawling, her face reddening to the color of her hair, and her best friend Jeyne was also crying. 

Theon knew it must be Arya, probably throwing dirt onto Sansa's pretty dress or calling her names. But he stopped in his tracks when he saw bright red blood staining Sansa's dress.

He rushed to Sansa and held her as she hiccuped and cried. Immediately, he pulled up her dress to see her pretty knees bloodied. From what he could tell from blubbering Jeyne, Arya pushed Sansa, who fell onto the rocks. Jeyne called Arya the devil spawn as Sansa nodded her pretty head in agreement (and he smiled thinking that Lady Catelyn could be meaner than the devil). He remembered his older brothers did much worse to him, terrorizing him and trying to make him a true Ironborn. But neither sweet Sansa nor kind Jeyne should ever be hurt, not if he could help it.

Pouring water from his waterskin onto the fresh wounds and gently removing the dirt and small pebbles with his fingers, he tried to sing to the girls to calm them both down as he rubbed gentle circles on Sansa's back. 

It worked as her tears stopped, and she looked up to him in such adoration. He could not help but squeeze her little nose to make her giggle. He tore strips off of his tunic and before binding her tiny knees, he kissed them gently, like the way he remembered his mum did for him. Sansa kindly asked if he could also kiss Jeyne's knees too as his kisses were too sweet like lemoncakes that she wanted to share them with her best friend. He did with a smile as Jeyne giggled in delight. 

Sansa asked, "Can we be your salt wives like in the song you sang? The bonny wives you would always take care of?"

Theon swallowed. He should not have sung that song and he needs to make sure that the little girls don't repeat it to anyone.

"Nay, you two would be rock wives for some fine lords. That song I sang to you is only for you two, my sweet girls, no one else, not Arya, not your brothers, no one. It is our secret. I will always protect you from harm."

Both girls nodded solemnly. 

Theon remembered his words to his sweet girls as he rode to Kingslanding with his small group of armed men to rescue them.


	5. Obsession (Smalljon & Sansa)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Less pure Smalljon.
> 
> Alternative to Crying, a fill for this prompt - Sansa and Smalljon are hot for each other and fantasize about having a happy, peaceful, post-war life together but for some reason(s) are convinced the other would never be interested and/or it could never happen for political reasons.

Right before the feast, Smalljon was waiting in a dark corner, waiting for his Northern princess to show. 

One of her ladies already told him that her blue dress was beautiful and that his princess gently prodded her ladies to tighten her top so that her full bosom swelled prettily over the delicately embroidered bodice. He had to give that maid ten kisses and a squeeze of her left breast for that information and his lady's small clothes, but he realized he would have given her a tumble for his lady was such a vision as she gracefully swept by him. He breathed in deeply her sweet scent.

Smalljon rushed through the hidden corridor to the Great Hall in time to see her grand entrance. He wanted to see his lady be presented and heralded, the most precious jewel of the North. 

With the thousands of candles glowing, none glowed as brightly as his lady. Her reddish golden hair shone more brightly than all of the candles in Westeros combined.

Smalljon hid behind planters, chairs and tables, trying to hide his embarrassingly large erection. He had to make sure his pure lady did not see him in this wretched condition. 

Then his northern princess gave a gracious welcoming speech, and he saw all the men and boys looking speechlessly at her. He saw other men equally afflicted as himself (although much smaller as they were not the giant Umbers) and remembered each face. These would be the men he and his brothers would punish in the training grounds the next morn.

He watched her dance with what seemed to be every man in the kingdom; and each man whose hand were too low, too close to her round bottom, was added to his list.

Smalljon knew his obsession with his princess was dangerous. When the King offered the hand of his sister, he knew he could not accept as he knew that he could not control his desires and would want to act out each and every one of his sordid fantasies. He could not taint her with his depravities. She deserved better than a man who has essentially whored himself out in order to acquire her small clothes and chest bindings. He was not and could never be worthy of her.

Later that night he cried, holding her small clothes to his nose as he yanked himself off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is written for Nierr - hopefully, this is what you were hoping for.


	6. Queen (Loras, Sansa and Margaery)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who is the biggest queen - Loras or Sansa?
> 
> Sansa, Loras, Margaery, Any - Solid Gold Dancers
> 
> I just want some crackfic (funny, or smutty, or outrageous or all three) involving the Westeros cast in gold spandex, gyrating and shaking what their mama gave them!!!!

In the Solid Gold Dancers communal co-ed dressing room, there was absolute mayhem! 

The two self proclaimed queens of the famed and infamous Solid Gold Dancers were battling over the last full can of hair spray.

Loras pouted, "You cannot be a queen because only gays [gestures to his body with a graceful sweep of hands] can be a queen. Furthermore, I am a much dancer than you. That hair spray can is mine."

The most popular starlet Sansa demurred, "I am younger, more beautiful and more gay than you. My teeth are not stained yellow by coffee and cigs that you inhale but instead sparkling white and glistening. When I smile, I have been told the world is no longer a dark place. I have more musicality and flexibility in one finger [elegantly unfurls her hand like delicate petals of a peony] than your entire body. That can is mine!"

Meanwhile, Renley has not fully tucked himself in tight spandex costume and is asking the other dancers if he looked fat, which momentarily distracted his lover, resulting in sweet Sansa running off with the can. She proceeded to use the entire can to fortify her auburn lion mane.

Margaery drawled to her frenemy, "Sansa, dah-ling, you know what Loras meant by gay, don't you?" 

Sometimes Margaery cannot believe the extent of Sansa's naïveté, her belief in the goodness of men and rainbows and unicorns and all things Muppets!

Once she finished with her hair, Sansa looked at Margaery straight in the face.

"I know exactly what Loras is saying. I know of his sexual orientation from walking in on him and Renley last night. But a queen does not have to be a homosexual, the Queen must rule; and everyone knows that it is me that slays the audience with my perfect balance, precision moves, flexibility and my smile." 

Sansa smiles prettily as she applied another layer of gloss to her pouty lips.

She continued, "As my hero, Miss Piggy said, 'I don't care what you think of me, unless you think I'm awesome. In which case you are right.'"

Ygritte exclaims, "Hot damn!" 

Both she and Arya high fived as Sansa did slay it - her smile, her attitude, her lip gloss, and, most importantly, her hair!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just love Miss Piggy and eighties hair! Lol!!!


	7. Win, Lose or Draw (Arya, Robb and Theon)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Starklings, game night
> 
> The Starks and all their friends do game night. Who cheats at Monopoly? Who's the Uno master? Who constantly knock down the tower when playing Jenga?

Every Thursday is the Stark Game Day, a day that determines who owns the Game Victors bragging rights until the next Game Day. She could not believe that last week Sansa and Jeyne totally destroyed the limbo competition when she thought she had the edge with her wee little partner Rickon and herself being the smallest competitors.

Her mother stocked the basement with wholesome healthy snacks (cut veggies lightly sprinkled with sea salt and a bowl of apples) and bottled water - yuck! Luckily, Theon always sneaked in sodas and contraband Doritos Nacho Cheese chips while her sister Sansa, of course, brings fancy schmancy cheese platter, complete with roasted nuts, dried figs, perfectly ripe pears (she had to admit they were yummy!).

Arya knew that tonight was hers even though she was saddled again with Rickon as no one else wanted to pair with her, not even Jon who normally was cool with her, due to her rather poor sportsmanship. As Knute Rockne said, "Show me a good and gracious loser and I'll show you a failure." With Bran being out on a school outing and Jeyne being on a trip with her family, Sansa will be paired with Jon, which meant that neither could look at each other or even talk without blushing which only meant victory for her!!! Fist pumps!! She also messed up with the clues, picking ridiculously difficult phrases for Theon to draw and Robb to guess. She did feel a small tinge of guilt but she was so sure that Jon moved the pole up last week as there was no way Sansa's full breasts wouldn't have touched the pole. 

Watching Theon try to draw 'Carson Palmer' was actually fascinating. He used his whole body, reanacting the whole celebration that cost the player thirty G's. And she was so shocked that Robb guessed everything correctly even though Theon drew stick figures. They even got 'Dick Clark' with Theon drawing a stick figure with a slightly shorter third leg - she wanted to gag when Theon crowed that it was a self portrait as he continued to thrust his pelvis rhythmically. When they got 'Charles Dickensen' in two scribbles, she almost coughed out her Doritos out of her nuclear orange coated mouth! They were like two bodies with one dick!

She was "Robbed"!!!!


	8. Confession (Smalljon/Sansa)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> for Zazou - ending to Obsession fill

The next morn Smalljon was wrecked. His large body was so tense from his restless sleep - he felt like with one touch, his body would snap like a twig. Everything hurt - his head from drinking so cups of ale, his eyes from crying all night, and most of all, his heart which was heavy.

He was his father's son, and he knew his father would be ashamed of him, of his actions, and his depraved thoughts towards the kind and gentle Northern princess. Although oft boisterous and rough, his father taught him and his brothers to respect women, that they were the true warriors fighting death to bring life, like his mother did, although she succumbed at the end, to give birth to the last Umber babe, his youngest brother. Women are to be cherished and cared for as they are what men are fighting to protect and keep safe.

What he has done was not only disrespectful to his lady as he stared at her smallclothes still balled in his fist but also to himself. He was so ashamed that he made demands of her maids and how he let them use him and his body. Whenever he touched them, he closed his eyes, dreaming she was in front of him. He vowed to himself 'Never again.'

After the morning sparring which left many men in the infirmary, Smalljon quickly bathed and then went to his lady's room to escort to the breaking of fast with her family.

There was something wrong as there were crying and sounds of items being thrown. Alarmed, Smalljon kicked her barred door down. 

He saw his lady crying and screaming at her maids. She was only dressed in her sheer night gown and was trembling with anger. Her maids were on the other side of the room, huddled and crying and begging her for forgiveness.

Scanning the room for threats, Smalljon immediately closed the gap between him and his lady and cloaked her. He shouted for the maids to leave them and for them to not speak of this, unless they wanted to face the ire of the King. The maids quickly left.

Smalljon held his trembling princess, who was now weeping uncontrollably. She could not look at him and covered her face with her tiny hands. His heart broke to see her sad and hurt, and he held her, kissing her soft locks and murmuring that all would be well and that he would have her maids replaced.

Somehow he knew it was him, not the maids, who betrayed her and hurt her so. He had to come clean - he had to do what was right, be the man his father raised, be an Umber and truly be the Sword worthy to protect her.

"My princess, I am sorry... I have shamed you, your ladies and myself. I was lost in my want for you - I desire you so much it hurts that I did horrible things, stole from your person and did things with your ladies... Please do not be scared - I could never hurt you nor force you... I will petition the King to release me from my vows for I am not worthy to be by your side. Know that you did nothing wrong. You are the kindest, most gracious lady - your honor is not stained. It is I who disgraced you, our King, and my House. I am sorry."

Smalljon wept into her hair, knowing that this would be the last time he would be with his lady. He would always love his lady.

She held him tightly and shook her head vigorously.

"Smalljon, you cannot leave me. You are a good man. A man, not a god... You told me when I confessed what he made me do that those actions did not define me and that I had much good in me. My honor had naught to do with how I used my body and was used by all those men. You told me that I could do good and am good. Did you lie to me? Am I a whore?"

"Nay, you are a lady. All I said I believe to be true. But the actions you did and were forced to do, you did them to survive. My actions were perverse, wanting to have something of you near me when I sleep and dream of you. I wanted to take you hard, in ev'ry position, in ev'ry hole. I wanted to pleasure you until you came time and time again. I love you and yet I wanted to defile you."

"And what if I wanted the same? Does it make me a wanton slut? I love you and also dream of you, of the things I want to do to you. I hunger for a taste of you, for you to be inside me, filling me completely."

They were both breathing hard. He shook his head and said over and over again "You are my lady" while kissing her everywhere, her forehead, her nose, her full lips, her collar bone, her breasts, her stomach and, pulling up her night shift, her privates which he lavished with so much attention that she sighed and moaned. He worshipped her, making sure that she came multiple times before he filled her. It was both gentle and rough as he pounded her hard, rocking her bed, while whispering that she was his lady. His back was marked with scratches, and his body was happily sore. In his arms was his lady, the woman he loved and who loved him well.


	9. New Queen (Margaery and Sansa)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Margaery and Sansa, Showgirls AU
> 
> Nomi (up and coming talent): Sansa  
> Cristal (current marquis dancer): Margaery

Standing in front of a cluttered desk covered with makeup, hair dryers, straightening irons, and curlers, jockeying for access to the mirror, Margaery mulled how everything changed.

It started with the Stark girl - such a beauty but yet ever so naive. Margaery thought wrongly that Sansa would be another whore working the topless bars far away from the Strip, used and abused by men who promised to protect her yet defiled her. She thought it was a shame since sweet red pussy and real boobs were so hard to find here in Vegas, the land of excess and sin.

Margaery looked appraisingly at herself. Only a few years older than Sansa, she looked so tired and old - there was no light in her eyes and her once dazzling smile seemed so fake. 

It was true that life as a show girl was not easy. In fact, it was very cut throat to become and stay the marquis dancer of the biggest and classiest topless revue in Vegas. She remembered doing whatever it took to topple Cersei, her predecessor, including sucking off the owner, Petyr. Granted the blond bitch was much older and could barely do any extension moves or pirouette without getting off balance due to her addition to alcohol and pain killers, which is also known as tools of the trade. It really did not take much to take over her mantle.

Yet while Margaery also used, she did not abuse, and her high kicks were still impeccable. Her breasts were still high and perky; and her body was strong and powerful to carry the heavy head dresses and the sparkling sequins drenched down her body pooling in a long and heavy train. She knew the audience loved her and her round perky bare ass (with a thong so thin) that shook like nobody's business. Margaery knew sex - all kinds of sex; and her dancing aroused both men and women.

That is why Sansa's ascension so shook her. While a talented dancer with beautiful lines, such flexibility, grace, and such long balance holds, Sansa was an innocent. Her smiles had no guile and were so pure like sunshine. She did not put out nor did she bad mouth anyone. While she never did any of Margaery's signature grinding or ass-shaking moves, her dancing was so sensual. When she danced, it seemed like she was the Maiden come to life with her full bosoms, small waists, and round ass. Her movements seemed to tell the story of love, love won, lost and found again. Anytime she came onstage, the audience would gasp as her beauty shone so bright. She was almost like a fairy creature. There was so much magic.

She remembered the audition, sneering with one of the girls how pathetic the red head was. When Petyr made her strip in front of the other dancers and the giant who drove her, Sansa did it unflinchingly and with so much dignity, revealing her milky white skin, full breasts and round ass. She looked like the painting "The Birth of Venus"; and everyone gasped at her unveiling. Petyr was speechless and hired her right away. 

As far as Margaery knew, he did not make Sansa pleasure him as he would be crowing about it to everyone as he did when she put out for him. But she could see him wanting Sansa, his looks of desire which only matched her own. 

But the red beauty only had eyes for her scarred giant - ahh, such a fairy tale, an innocent beauty falling in love with a scarred and violent monster. Yet it was all true - the princess became the queen and the evil witch was put in the dungeons of Vegas, working at the titty bars and giving lap dances ever since the day she refused to give head to Petyr and sneeringly called him Little Dick, not Little Finger.


	10. A Knight's Tale (Sandor x Sansa)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sandor/Sansa, cross dressing
> 
> Sandor wants a knight to save him.

It started with little things. 

Sandor's stormy grey eyes lit up when she wore her tailored pant suits to work. Then when they got her out of the said pant suit and made love (making her a bit late into work those morns), he would always put his work tie on her as she rode him in her naked glory. 

He always got turned on whenever she got dirty, wearing jeans and long sleeved shirts to protect her body from debris, as they were renovating their mid century fixer. He later massage her aches and would kiss her muscles, murmuring how strong and tough she was, which always made her giggle as she never thought herself that way. 

He then started buying her underwear - none of the lacy little things she wore to entice him, but instead white cotton boy shorts that fully covered her round ass. She admitted that they were very comfortable and kinda cute, but she wanted to be sexy, sexy for him. She later found out that whenever she wore one of the panties he bought, he would do down on her, kneel down, worship her ass and turn her around to kiss and pull down her shorts with her teeth as he whimpered.

She loved all of her pretty things, her romantic blouses, dresses and flirty skirts, and wearing make-up, but she knew that what turned him on was her with no or subtle make-up, wearing pants or his tie or just her boy shorts. She thought it was a little strange that he got so turned on by her wearing pants but then she tried to rationalize it, thinking that he just liked to see her long stems and her cute perky ass. But when he preferred her in her baggy sweat pants and comfy oversized Ts over her tight and short cocktail dresses, she was really confused. 

But what shocked her was what she saw when she came home early one day due to some problems with the computer network in the office. Sandor, who worked at home, was dressed in an oversized nightie and silky robe. 

She screamed! He screamed!

Sansa knew that it was too good to true that she finally found her true knight in shining armor. Before Sandor, she had a string of physically and/emotionally abusive relationships where she was beaten, and/or belittled, and/or cheated on. She thought Sandor was different - that he really loved her for herself, that he did not think her weak or stupid. Although he looked like a mean, angry giant, he was always so gentle and loving towards her, almost submissive in bed, allowing her to set up the pace and the positions. 

Seeing him in a dress made her mind race with all those things she noticed before and found odd, including finding large panties in his bedroom that he explained was one of his former lovers. 

He wanted to be a woman which meant that he wanted to be with a man. And she definitely was no man - she had full breasts and a pussy!

She started crying as he reached out and hugged her.

"Shhhh, Sansa... I am so sorry. I won't wear them again. I know you must think I look silly in them and that this is gross. Please don't leave me - I love you," he cried.

Her body stiffened. He never told her those words but she felt them before with the way he cared for her, provided for them, and all the things he did, making her tea and lightly massaging her stomach when she had her periods and massaging her toes after a long day's work. She did not understand.

"Sandor, I am not a man; and it looks like you want a man. I can't be what you really want."

"I only want you. I love you - you are so strong even after all those things you went through, never letting them defeat you. I see you persevere at work and excelling, using your technical skills and not letting anyone treat you poorly. I see you who put together a broken and bitter and lonely man. You gave me love and so much hope. I see you, my hero. I love you. I don't want a man - I only want you."

Crying, they hugged and kissed, and she got him out of the nightie and robe.

Later that evening, he asked, "Did the nightie make me look fat?"

Sansa shyly said, "I think you look beautiful, with or without it on."


	11. Her True Knight (Beric and Jeyne)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> trigger warning: past physical abuse
> 
> Beric x Jeyne Poole, body worship
> 
> He worships at his temple religiously.

She broke so many times, in so many brittle pieces. Each day she woke up to a living nightmare, worse than anything her mind could conjure.

She drifted oft, back to the days she was with her best friend Sansa, laughing in her bed, dreaming of her husband being Beric Dondarrion, not this cruel sadistic bastard. Every time he removed a piece of skin, she dreamt it was Beric lightly kissing her. She knew it was sick.

When Winterfell was being attacked, her bastard husband stabbed her over and over again. It was such sweet relief! Finally, the nightmare was over and she can finally rest, be with her loved ones, her mum and da (hopefully, her sweet friend Sansa and her little sister escaped!).

But it was not to be. By some dastardly deed, she was alive, although she was so cold. She cried and wept, wanting to rest. A cold hand wiped away her tears, whispering to her that she was safe, that all of her enemies are dead, that he would protect his little lady, that it would be well again.

How could that be when she was alive? She wanted to meet the Stranger.

Strong arms held her, rocking her gently. She felt gentle kisses to the crown of her head but she did not want to open her eyes to the horror of being alive once again.

He said, "Sweet little lady, please don't cry. I am so sorry - I could not let you die. Of all of the resurrections I have performed, you are the one light I could not let be extinguished. I see your gentle and kind spirit - this is what is needed in this world. I see you. I know you. Please do not cry."

With her eyes closed, she felt butterfly light kisses on her face, her forehead, her nose, her cheeks, her jaw and finally sweet kisses on her lips. It felt so much like what she imagined Beric's kisses would feel like. But she knew that it was all a lie. It could not be. The bastard must have hurt her so badly that she no longer could tell the difference between dark reality and beautiful fantasy.

But if this naught but a dream, she did not want to wake up, to be held by such strong arms, to be told that she was sweet and kind and to be lovingly kissed. She leaned into his strong hard body and kissed him back, first shyly and then passionately until they both were breathless. She still kept her eyes closed, afraid that she was kissing her bastard husband.

She felt long fingers wiping her last tears and holding her face up, sighing with such happiness and telling her how beautiful she was to him. She knew that she was never a beauty even before her scars, nothing like Sansa. On her best days, she was pretty - she remembered Sansa remarking on the day they saw Beric that she was especially pretty with her new yellow dress they made together, that the boys and even the men were noticing her pretty smile! 

Yet even though she knew it was not true, she still yearned to hear those words and blindly touched the man's face. He had scars - including a deep one near his right eye, but his facial structure was strong. A tall nose, strong cheekbones, and such soft lips. When her fingers touched his lips, he began to kiss and suckle them, one by one. She felt such heat in her once cold body, a burning so hot that it almost overwhelmed her. She could not help but sigh.

"My beautiful sweet little lady, please open your eyes. I want to see your kind eyes."

It was a dream! She stubbornly kept her eyes closed as the man started to chuckle at her stubbornness.

"Sweet Jeyne, do you not want to see the man who loves and worships you?"

He knew her name - no one in Winterfell knew her real name, not even her bastard husband knew!

Her eyes flew open, and she saw the man of her dreams cupping her face gently. She was saved by her true knight!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want someone to save Jeyne because she is Jeyne. I love her!


	12. Breath of Life (Jaime x Cersei)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cersei/Jaime, breath control
> 
> Jaime likes to hold his breath

He knew it was sick. 

Well, he chuckled, everything they did was sick. They were twins afterall. Cersei liked to exclaim to him that when they came out of their mother's womb, she was already sucking on his dick and he was already eating her pussy!

But for him to beg for her to choke him when he came, it must be wrong. But like everything they do, it felt so right, actually so much more than right. 

He felt euphoric, felt like he was flying like a kite bound to the earth by the barest of threads, a single strand of her golden hair. 

He knew that if she did not release her hold in time, he could die. It was that knowledge that she held his life in her hands, as she always does, that made the act so much more powerful and so arousing for both of them.

He brokenly gasped to her, "Squeeze, make me come alive."


	13. Not an Emo boy (Awkward Jon)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon/Any, Twister
> 
> Awkward Jon - having a boner while playing twister. Your choice re his playmate(s) (Sansa, Jeyne P, Margaery, Loras, Sam, etc., or any combo).

It was a rough day at school being heckled by Theon, Harrion and others about being an emo boy. 

Yes, he wore black clothes (black so versatile), he liked My Chemical Romance (really, did the haters even listen to their greatness???), and he sometimes sport eyeliner. So what??? 

And yes, he did brood often but he would bet everything in the world that you would be moody too if you were afflicted by uncontrollable erections. 

They came at the worst of times - during breakfast when he watches his beautiful younger step sister eat berries with cream; at the bus stop as he watches her and her friends braid each other's hair, hug, and laugh; at class as he watches her chew her pencil as she listens to their AP Chemistry teacher; at the swim practice (which is worst time ever as he cannot hide it with his long plaid shirts or a well positioned backpack or a notebook he always carried around) as he watches her stretch before diving in; and pretty much every time he is with her.

He tried to think of calculus problems, Theon, etc. But he could not keep her out of his dirty and perverted mind. 

She is his little sister but technically she is not. His father is not her biological father; and her mother is not his biological mother. They share no blood but they were raised as siblings for much of their lives. He knows that he sees his other step siblings as his brothers and sister. But he never saw her that way or so he says to himself.

Hitting himself on the head over and over again, telling not to think of her, he feels a gentle pat on his arm and immediately smells her lavender mint body wash that he sometime borrows. 

"Jon, you OK? Is it Theon again? I don't know why Robb hangs out with that jerk."

"Sans, um, I'm fine. Just had a tough day. Maybe I need to go for a swim or something."

"I know what you should do. Come with me to Loras' birthday party. It will be fun. Everyone is invited and going. Sam is going too. Come on! Let's get out!"

She knew he could never deny her anything. The party was not too bad until she dragged him to the dreaded Twister. There were many games set up on the lawn; and Sansa persuaded him to play with her, Margaery, Myranda, Loras and Sam. With the first spin, Sam got out as he had a bit much to drink. He tried to position away from the girls, especially Sansa, which got harder and harder (pun intended) as the game progressed. Finally it was only himself, Sansa and Myranda. His face was in Myranda's bosom (in fact, it seemed like the whole class of 1999 had their face at one point on another in her ample bosom - she was very friendly to all); and Sansa's face was unfortunately a few inches from his crotch after the fifth spin. He heard her gasp and fall. Blushing bright red, he knew she saw his tent. He wanted to die and wanted to fall but could not as Myranda's bosom and ripe body underneath kept him upright, almost like air bags in a car. The rounds kept going with Myranda somehow wrapped around him in such a intimate way that he could not fall. 

He heard Theon mockingly yelled, "Get a room!" 

That luckily made Myranda laugh and fall down. He stayed down even though they announced that he won. 

Jon could not look at anyone's face as he knew that they all saw him. He finally got up, hearing all the laughter and snickering, and skunked away quickly. With tears in his eyes, he didn't and couldn't really see and bumped into someone who was also crying. It was Sansa!

Sansa looked at him and looked quickly away. She hissed, "Margaery said all guys were the same. She was right!"

"I'm sorry if I embarrassed you in front of your friends. I can't help this..." 

He wanted to really weep because he could not take it if sweet Sansa hated him - she was the only girl in school that did not call him emo boy or tease him. Even Myranda sometimes smirked when Theon teased him.

Sansa then looked down sadly and gently touched his arm.

"No. I should have not said that. Myranda is actually a sweet girl, very friendly. She likes you because you are nice to her. It is not wrong that you like her. It is just..."

Her face was flushed red. 

"I like you... I know it is wrong but I do... So I was jealous," she whispered.

He wanted to hug her but he realized that this was the moment when everything could change. She deserved better than him, a loser like Theon said. He pretended he did not hear her and walked quietly home with her.

Often he thought what would have happened if he confessed his feelings and explained that his hard on was always for her. 

Would she not have gone out with all the losers? Would she still be alive?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was supposed to be funny but it went south and pretty angsty. Maybe I am the emo guy (lol)!


	14. Not her eyes (Sandor and Ros)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sandor x Ros, first time
> 
> If Sandor grew up in the North, the men chipped in for his first time.

He drank too much. 

His boys, nay men for a few years now, help him celebrate his sixteenth name day. They apparently pool their money to buy him as many cups of ale his big body can take. By the way everything seems to be spinning, he has met his limit, and Jory, Desmond and a few others are grand enough to help him to the barracks where they slept.

"I love you, Jory. You are the best of men, did anyone tell you that? No?... No one has ever given me anything unless they are expecting something in return. Except maybe the pretty little lady... She is so sweet and so kind... Where are we going?"

"We are taking a different route, a scenic route. You are going to like the scene."

His friends are snickering, and he decides to giggle too.

The building doesn't look right, so much bigger. There are naked girls! Where is he?

Jory directs him to a room, and he knows that he was safe with Jory. Jory always had his back, never lets anyone make any remarks about his scars. Trusts Jory with everything - what his brother did, his fear of fire, and his love for sweet little lady with fiery red hair.

When Jory opens the door, he sees the small room is barely lit. He sees red hair, and he wants to touch but he knows he shouldn't. 

Jory's hands grip his shoulders, and he looks into Sandor's eyes.

"Sandor, she knows of your scars. They don't matter here. Let her take care of you."

Jory leaves him with her. At first, he thinks it is her. But the smell is different. His little lady smells fresh like a spring day and is always clean. This redhead smells more spicy and musky, more like him after a hard day's of training. While her hair is bright red, it doesn't shine like her hair. Her smiles, he sees three of her, seems forced, not like her smile that can light the entire keep. 

"Come here. I can make you feel good."

Her voice is all wrong - so harsh and not soft or bright as her voice.

She comes towards him and pulls him onto the bed, the only furniture besides a small table holding the candles. His little lady would never grab and yank him but instead softly holds his arm when he escorts her to her lessons.

"My lady, you are pretty. How many of you are there?" He tries to remember his manners, remembering what his little lady taught him - to always compliment a lady.

She snorts and laughs loudly. Her laughter reminds him of the braying laugh of Fat Tom. It is not her delightful giggles, which reminded him of the happy chirps of birds. She would never have laughed at his attempt, not even his attempts of dancing which resulted in her tiny toes being hurt.

"I have never been called a lady before, but I can pretend to be yours. You can be my true knight. I am one woman but I can pleasure you like three!"

She starts to pull off his clothes as he tries to hold onto them.

"Don't be shy. You have naught that I haven't seen before. Hmmmm. Your body is very strong."

She begins stroking his body and his cock! He is finding it hard to breath and think.

"I don't want to pretend... You are not her. I'm sorry. I should leave."

"Nay, do not be sorry. We do not have to pretend. I like your body, and you will find your pleasure in mine."

She removes her robe, leaving her bare. Holding his hand, she moves his hand so he is palming her large breast, so much larger and fuller than hers although he never touched it or would dare to. His lady is very young, just had her moon blood.

It feels good - her hands on him and his cock and his hand on her breast. When she touches him, all blood goes to his cock. His eyes close. Grabbing his large cock, she lowers herself onto him and he begins to thrust as she moves with him. It feels so good and when she screams to go faster, he pounds her harder and harder. He is grunting and crying - he feels like he lost something precious, something he wants to gift to another. 

She is screaming! Did he hurt her? His eyes flies open and he sees that she wouldn't look at his face but kept her eyes firmly on his chest.

Jory is wrong. It did matter - his scars. They all call him a monster except his lady. 

He stops and pulls out and run and run!

When he does not come back, his friends and Lady finds him naked, shivering, and crying in the Godswood. Lady licks him and keeps him warm and calm and safe. Lady's eyes reminds him of her eyes, so blue and soft. When he hunts with sweet Lady who only flushes out the prey for him, he oft feels like he is with her lady. His eyes feels so heavy, and Lady is so warm and loving. He loves her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sandor is OOC but I have seen people change when drunk. 
> 
> I am a happy drunk and that is how I imagine Sandor will be in this fill.


	15. Promise (Bran and Shireen)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bran/Shireen (eventual) Bone Collector (the Movie)
> 
> Bran is a paraplegic forensic criminology expert; and Shireen, a patrol cop, is his "legs".

When Osha opened the heavy curtains to let the blinding sun in to his room, Bran could not help but scowl. It wasn't necessarily because he wasn't a "morning person" (he wasn't but he wasn't a "night person" either), but because of the inherent bullshit of the sun heralding a new day, full of promise. He knew better - each day was a day closer to the end that he wanted but cannot get to on his own, and Osha, his current arms and legs, would not hear of it.

His bitterness and anger drove away the other nurses but Osha refused to leave. In fact, she would yell at him, taunting him that he couldn't make her leave as his sister who was paying her, not him. It was true he was helpless - he could not even wipe his own ass; and that only added to his growing bitterness.

The only flicker of light was the work he started doing again; and even with this, there was much darkness as it had to be a serial killer on the loose that made the force come to him. They paired him with an up and coming patrol cop, Shireen, who was to be his eyes and arms/legs on the scene. He begrudgingly had to admit she was bright and perceptive, but she was too impulsive. She would always to run to the victim and try to save the victim versus go for the perp. Although Shireen was normally stoic, she stood up to him when he berated her for disturbing the scene by her attempts to save the last vic. He told her that if they caught the perp and put him behind bars with solid forensic evidence, they would be saving countless lives. The equation was simple - one life or many lives. But it would never be for her.

Since they worked closely together with her being wired and being strapped to a small portable video camera, he could tell by the sound of her breaths and the cadence of her voice if she was content, sad or scared. He found himself cracking jokes he remembers making before to hear her cute snort, to know that he made her smile wryly.

At first, their only interactions were his blunt and often abrasive directions. She was so quiet - he liked that she never told him what to do but instead just listened. He is laughing to himself as her job required her to listen to his voice and follow his directions. But he started to find himself telling her things, things he didn't let himself think about, things so hidden and so dark. She never made him feel bad about himself, made him feel guilty, or made any judgements it seemed. Only when he told of his want to end it did he hear her gasp. He made her promise that once they find and capture the killer, she would help him.

He recalled her exact words. Her promise to him. "I will help you be free."

It was that promise that pushed him, to put the pieces of the puzzle together and to save himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to make sure that it is clear that her promise wasn't to help him end his life, it was to help him to start a new life with her. And I think Bran knows exactly what she means.
> 
> I am not paralyzed (although I do live with constant pain but no worst than what others have) but have felt paralyzed and helpless before in my life. But I never lose my hope and believe (although my Bran will snort) that tomorrow will bring an even better day!


	16. First Day of High School (Sansa and Awkward Jon)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Starks, The Brady Bunch AU
> 
> Nan = Alice Nelson  
> Ned = Mike Brady  
> Catelyn = Carol Brady  
> Robb = Greg Brady  
> Sansa = Marcia Brady  
> Jon = Peter Brady  
> Bran = Jan Brady (male)  
> Rickon = Bobby Brady  
> Arya = Cindy Brady  
> First day of school of high school for Sansa (freshman with two older bros. looking out for her, scaring cute guys away)

The fourth look is what I imagined Sansa picked as her outfit. <http://www.seventeen.com/fashion/g2527/back-to-school-outfit-ideas/?src=social-email>

=======

Even though she set her first day of high school outfit (including accessories) out the night before, it took her over two hours to get ready as she was still torn between the other outfits she discarded yesterday. She wanted to look hot, but not too hot - she knew from the experience of one of her friends Myranda that it is difficult to overcome a bad (and in Myranda's case, unfounded) reputation. She wanted to look like she wasn't trying to hard, not too trendy. But she didn't want to look like a fashion disaster. She and her best friend Jeyne spent hours in the mall, watching the cool high school girls who look so effortlessly put together. Ugh, life is so difficult!

Finally, she ended wearing what she put out the night before. A cute denim romper over striped Oxford long sleeve shirt. It looked smart and showed off her stems, her best feature in her opinion.

When she went downstairs to eat her daily yoghurt sprinkled with granola , fresh fruit, and a small bran muffin, she heard sharp intakes of breath from her two older brothers, Robb and Jon. Oh, oh. They look like they are going to be in total "big brother protective mode" like the time when a high school boy asked her to the high school winter social. It was so embarrassing! Sometimes she wished her mum didn't marry their da, but she didn't really mean that because Ned made her mum really happy and the boys aren't really that bad. They were in fact great in keeping that creep Joffrey away from her and her friends although she never told them that (they kinda just knew as she kinda just knows that today's first day of high school will be a challenge with her two older brothers especially Jon).

She tried to ignore their stares and ate her breakfast nonchalantly as her mum complimented her on her cute outfit. She beamed. Maybe other mums weren't so fashionable and beautiful but she thought her mum was so beautiful and loved it whenever her mum liked her outfits. Maybe she misread the situation as if her mum was OK with her outfit, her brothers should be too. Humming away to Sarah Bareilles' song "I Choose You," she decided to ignore her trepidation of her older brothers ruining her first day and just live in the moment! She was going to high school, be with her friends and make new friends!

Bran woke up late again but she was going to make him a lunch bag anyways, with all of his favorite treats.

Right before she headed out to the bus stop, Jon stopped her.

"Sans, Robb and I can take you to school."

"Um, thanks but Jeyne will be on the bus."

"We can take her too."

Since Jeyne had the biggest crush on Robb, she agreed and texted Jeyne to wait for them to pick her up.

Jon left the front passenger seat open for Jeyne and sat with her in the back seat. He seemed broodier (is that even a word???) than ever. He could not stop staring at her which kinda made her uncomfortable - was there something in her hair? She proceeded to text Jeyne say that she is riding shotgun with Robb (yay!), Jon is staring at her again (weird!), and that she need her to let her know her look is OK.

When they picked up Jeyne, the girls continued to text each other and giggle.

Jon exclaimed, "I don't understand it - you girls are in the same car yet you text each other."

"Well, it is obviously that we want a private conversation, and do not want you to overhear us." She rolled her eyes as it was so obvious! Duh!

"Well, you better not use your cell in class or you will lose it and get detention."

"OK, BIG BROTHER," Sansa grounded out as Jeyne looked at her sympathetically. She was not gonna let her brother ruin her big day so she is ignoring him and his death stare (Jeyne called it smoldering - she is so funny because he is like her brother!!!).

She checked her classes with Jeyne before, and unfortunately they did not have the first period. She had that with Jon - AP World History. It was one of her favorite subjects (all were but for math) so she was not going to let Jon ruin it for her.

Robb reminded her that he was going to drive the girls home from school, which was really nice. Once the car stopped, she politely thanked Robb and walked quickly to her class with Jon following closely behind her. He was doing that glaring thing again, scaring the cute guys from getting anywhere near her.

This had to stop! Since they were still early, she stopped and hissed, "Please, Jon. You are embarrassing me. You promised after that episode of you tying Willas to a tree that you will stop."

"Sans, I know what those guys think when they see you."

"They see a cute and smart girl - that is what they see!"

He could not tell her what they see because it was what he saw - a hot siren, long red hair, small waist and such long long legs! Jessica Rabbit come to life! They would want to fuck her, but he couldn't respond because he didn't want her to feel creeped out.

Seeing him apparently stupefied with her response, she turned around with a huff and went to their class, not noticing how the guys were crashing into walls, planters and/or other people as they saw her walk angrily away. One guy actually fell into the trash can. The way she strutted was so damn sexy! Jon sighed to himself that it would be a long school year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I ended up not including all the other characters listed in the prompt and may come back to revisit this AU.


	17. Atonement (Lancel and Sansa)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lancel and Sansa - both have POVs re a pivotal moment after the Battle of the Blackwater.

When she saw him cry in pain after trying to save the city, Sansa could not help herself from rushing towards him. Using her handkerchief, she tried to stop the bleeding around the broken arrow still jutting out of his shoulder like the way she saw the maester did with the scraps her brothers got into. But the wound was bleeding to much! She saw two serving men nearby so she called them over and ordered them to take the poor boy to the maester. She admonished the one nearest her to apply pressure to the wound, to try to slow the bleeding.

As he walked slowly away with assistance from the two men, Lancel stared at her in disbelief, so shocked that she was the only one who helped him.

Sansa was shocked herself - that she actually helped a Lannister, a member of the house that is seeking to destroy her House, that is in war against her brother, the King of the North, and his forces. And he was not sweet Tommen or even Myrcella who now turned away from her but was not otherwise cruel. Lancel was the cruel boy who made fantastical stories that incited the king to have her publicly beaten and stripped. She saw how he was treated before by Joffrey's father and actually felt badly to him. Lancel was truly a stupid boy then, but she realized that she must be an even more stupid girl now for she aided him, an enemy to her house.

Shaking her head sadly, Sansa thought it was a shame that being kind could be considered the wrong thing to do. It was against everything she was raised to believe and that she finally realized that if her father were still alive, he would be proud of her. When Lancel fell to the the ground and was crying, she could not help but think of her brothers being in the same situation and hoping that someone would have done the same for them. Joffrey would sneer and call her stupid but he was not one that she wanted approval from. His good opinion meant nothing to her now that she had seen his true side, that underneath his beauty is such ugliness. If Lancel would later be the one who would drive a sword in her heart, it was meant to be. She would not regret her actions.

In his sick bed, Lancel could not help but think over and over again about Sansa's kindness. When she hovered over him, he saw just pure goodness. She was a goddess who saved him. The maester told him and his father that if he saw to Lancel just a few minutes later, Lancel would have died from blood loss since the arrow pierced his heart. Even though he was tended quickly, he almost died many times. But each time he came back with a vision of her reaching out to lovingly taking him back. 

Lancel told his father who stayed by his side about his angel, crying and confessing the horrors he had inflicted on her and how he just watched and did naught to help her. He told his father everything although his father cautioned him against speaking of it to anyone. He felt so ashamed of loving a monster whose evil spawn hurt her. He firmly believed that his wound was a just punishment for his sins and for what he has done, but his father could not or did not want to hear his confessions. His father just held him and promised that he would do what he could to keep her from harm.

But his father's promise was not enough. It was his fault, and he needed to change his actions and atone for his many sins. He wanted to do good, to do what was right, to do what she would do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was written for Nierr.
> 
> I had a really hard time of writing Lancel's point of view. What I remember was that he seemed to be bullied and then he was a bully himself (which made it hard for me to feel much empathy). I recall that his father loved him (but that may be a false memory) so I wrote a lot of that relationship. Hopefully, this is what Nierr is looking for.


	18. Treat Yo Self (Sansa and Sandor)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crackfic inspired by an exchange I had with naturesinmyeye making reference to Westeros version of a makeover. The prompt is:
> 
> "Westeros version of a makeover" - HAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA!! (gets vision of modern day AU where Sansa drags Sandor to a beauty parlor run by Elder Brother. Sandor sitting there wanting to murder everyone while the Elder Brother is putting foils in his hair because Sansa thinks some chocolate in the black will look good -- OMG! Someone write me a story?? Please??)

He yelled at her until he was hoarse. He said hateful words, belittling her and calling her stupid. And he never really ever raised his voice at her. Of course, they had some spats, and he did smirk or speak incredulously. He usually agreed with her in the end (she liked to think that it is because she was always right, which may be true). 

It was because he thought that she was different, that she was someone he could trust, that she would not let him down like all the others. It was true that when she chirped and spoke flowery words to him, he initially thought that she must be a liar, that this was some sick, mean joke, that someone put her up to pretending to be nice to him. How could such a nice pretty girl be attracted to him? It was a few weeks after they met that she was finally able to look into his eyes, without flinching although she blushed so prettily, and confessed that she liked him a lot. She couldn't look at him because she was shy around guys she liked - it had naught to do with his scars that covered more than half of his face. Looking into her eyes, he knew she spoke true; and it would be he who is a liar if he didn't admit he liked her too, liked all those things he thought he would scoff, her loudly singing Disney songs, her goofy dance moves, and her little snorts and giggles. After that confession, his defenses went down, and he fell hard for her, even quit smoking because she complained about it, saying how it would shorten his life.

So that is why he blew up when she told him that she booked them a day of beauty and spa treatments. He didn't mind the deep tissue massage or the full body seaweed wrap (he even snorted thinking of them looking like enormous sushi rolls) or even the mani/pedis (she gave him both before, complete with hand and foot massages). It was the hair cut and hair color and the facial! She wanted to change his appearance - he knew that when she started hanging out with her new college friends, all beautiful rich kids, that she would want more than him, an ugly high school drop out working as a mechanic in an independent shop. It was just a matter of time that she would ditch him as the guys from the shop warned him. He didn't want to wait for her to come to that realization that he was pulling her down, keeping her from reaching her full potential (she decided to go to a local university to be close to him instead of the ivy league schools that accepted her).

And when he spat those last spiteful words and saw the hurt in her eyes, he wanted to swallow them and take them back. She gasped, and there was silence. He thought she would leave him.

But she surprised him again when she immediately hugged him, babbling about 'Treat Yo Self' and about how stressed both were with work and school. She wanted them to de-stress and was sorry that she didn't tell him, but she wanted to surprise him! He seemed to like all of her other suggestions, even the Korean karoake bar with her closest friends from high school (he did a mean "Feel like Making Love" rendition). But if he did not want to go and was uncomfortable, she would go with Loras.

Even though he knew Loras liked guys as he saw him checking out his ass, he also saw Loras appreciatively looking at Sansa in a tiny blue bikini. There was no fucking way Loras and Sansa would do a his-and-hers couples massage! He only put his big hairy foot down on a couples facial and instead had that replaced with a private couples sauna session.

He was so glad that he went because she booked a private spa room with a hot tub, complete with this Flash Dance like contraption with a rope. He loved it when she sat down in her tiny bikini and pulled the rope as water fell on her. Her whipping her long hair back and arching her back while giggling were so sexy and adorable at that same time. 

He also loved their massages and nori wraps - they were so relaxing that he actually fell asleep and was snoring loudly.

He still had trepidation about the hair cuts and hair color treatments. He never realized that she had any hair color done but she said it was only to counter the effects of her daily swims. She looked beautiful as ever, and she did make him smile when she moved her new long shag locks back and forth, looking like that video vixen Tawny Kitaen.

Finally, it was his turn. He was snarling. He wanted to slap the hairdresser's hands when Ole Bro (the hair dresser) pulled his long hair back. He didn't want him to cut it, but he heard Sansa say that it was only a trim, to get rid of the split ends, to make his hair look more even, instead of being too long on the left side to cover his scars. He felt like Sampson as he saw more and more of his face revealed. But when he saw her face in the mirror, he saw her smile grow larger and larger. His hair did feel softer and more healthy and had more body. He wasn't too happy about the length on the left side although he agreed he could see much better without his overlong bangs totally covering his left eye and left side of his face.

Then it was his turn for hair color, and Sansa was consulting with Shae, the colorist, looking at the color samples. Both would place it against his face and ohh and ahhh. He rolled his eyes and sighed loudly. But she was so excited, and strangely, he found himself going through the color samples with them and deciding between dark red auburn lowlights and/or chocolately highlights to counter the ashiness (he originally thought the colorist said assholish but she did have an accent) in his hair. The process was long, but they also did the mani/pedi (they had matching silver toes and Russian navy finger nails) as they waited. He felt ridiculous with the foil in his hair, but Sansa whispered she had another treat for him because he was so patient, which perked him up considerably (remembering of her treat for his birthday which involved her being on all fours). 

Finally, it was done! At first, he did not notice a difference in his hair color and wanted to demand a refund! But Sansa cooed with glee and saying that they matched, showing how his hair had subtle red color by placing her face and her hair against his. Her kissing his face also totally distracted him but not enough to not be a bit miffed when the colorist mumbled to get a room. Sansa actually giggled at the comment and brought him to their private sauna room, whispering clothes are optional and the only restriction was no body fluids with a gleam in her eyes. After twenty minutes of sheer bliss, they stepped out, both extremely happy and relaxed, almost boneless in fact. 

He finally understood the full meaning of 'Treat Yo Self.' His treat was seeing his little bird so happy (and, well, making her sing in the sauna).


	19. 31:30 (Stannis, Sansa and Jon)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> StannisxSansa, SansaxJon, Camelot
> 
> Stannis - King Arthur  
> Sansa - Guinevere  
> Jon - Lancelot  
> Aftermath after the King discovers their affair.
> 
> Also, Melisandre = Morgan le Fay and Davos = Merlin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title comes from this proverb which is one I always found actually quite disturbing. 
> 
> "Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting;
> 
> but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised."

The day in Court was difficult - he was without his Queen. Ev'ry moment away from his Queen increased his anxiety as he felt that she was further slipping away from him. 

Even in the rare instances when she graced him with her presence, she seemed to be elsewhere. Her beautiful face was a mask of courteous gentility; and her manner was formal and distant, not warm and affectionate as it was before he sent Ser Jon Targaryen on an impossible quest north of the Wall to find the Horn of Joramun. Ser Jon would never return, not to her.

When he chose his second wife, the woman who would be his Queen, he remembered telling himself that theirs would be a political marriage, that he needed her for her claims by blood to the Vale, the Riverlands and the North, that he needed her to produce heirs, that he should not expect her friendship or companionship, much less affection or love. He was married once before to Lady Selyse, who while dutiful, clearly disliked him. It was an unhappy marriage, and he knew not to expect anything differently with his second and final marriage. His late brothers all told him that he lacked charm and any empathy and joked no woman could love him. He told himself and assured her that the Queen only needed to do her marital duty until she gave birth to his heir and a spare, and he would release her from her service to live comfortably in the Maidenpool.

His wizard and closest advisor was initially distrustful of her, unbelieving that she remained pure although she was wed to two now deceased lords, Lord Tyrion Lannister and Lord Harrold Hardyng. Davos also worried that his gentle lady had a part in her dead husbands' suspicious deaths. He remembered scoffing at that, that a seemingly fragile woman could be responsible for another's death - he thought that she could not hurt a fly! After several maesters and septas verified her purity, he sighed with relief although he could not believe a known lecher like Lord Tyrion would not have taken her on their wedding night notwithstanding her young age at that time. She was such a young beauty then; and an even greater beauty now.

He remembered sneering at Davos' early warnings, spouting that he would not be bewitched by her beauty, that he cared naught for her, only that she bore him his heirs like how her mother did for her father, three strong boys and two pretty girls. She was to be his brood mare and she need not even show up to Court. He told himself that 'charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting.' 

But on their wedding night as he perched atop her, he found himself gently kissing her, trying to desperately comfort his wife. Their love making that night was gentle, much more gentle than his lays with his former wife. He did not want to hurt her or to see her cry. He was angered at the scars marking her back, at the stupidity of the last mad king. Her sweet tentative touches and awkward kisses afterwards inflamed his desires, but he only cuddled her and kissed her, not wanting to cause her any pain.

Although he tried to guard his heart, her kindness and grace broke down his defenses, and he looked forward to being in her presence, cutting short his notoriously long Round Painted Table meetings. Even Davos warmed to her, and his best knight, Ser Jon, also approved of the new Queen. The people loved the Queen and named her Queen Sansa the Good. His daughter Shireen adored her new mother.

He found himself confiding in her on small, relatively benign issues at Court, e.g., the many factions at the Court. She begun to counsel on how to deal with the Court in a manner that not only was effective but ingenuous. He was to appear neutral, which made each faction believing that he was on their side. He started bringing her to Court and witnessed her bring consensus where he thought it would be impossible. A gracious smile or kind word from her was oft enough for the other party to not chaff against his orders but instead listen to them.

She even made him laugh when she impersonated Lord Petyr, a man whom he disliked for her sake and who he put to death by fire, relishing hearing his cries and screams. Both Ser Jon and his daughter Shireen remarked that they never saw him smile, much less laugh. He realized that it was true that she made him happy, that he no longer ground his teeth or clench his fists when she was by his side. 

Because of the skirmishes and uprisings through the Kingdom, he oft left his Queen to bring peace to the Kingdom, quashing the rebellions. He could not leave her unless he was assured of her safety, and he assigned her cousin and his best knight, Ser Jon, to be her Sword. He made Ser Jon vow under all the gods, old and new, to never leave her side. Years later, he rued his decisions, wondering if it were these vows he made Jon pledge that led to the end of his marriage and his friendship with Ser Jon.

Ev'ry time he returned, he returned to get her open arms and gentle kisses. He loved doing their marital duty even if they no longer needed a heir. His seed did not take due to the infrequency of their couplings. But he made sure that none were to blame the Queen, saying that it must be his fault. He was married many years with Lady Selyse and their marriage only produced one child and few miscarriages. He announced to much fanfare that Shireen was his heir, then any child with his Queen, and then to his newly legitimized nephew, Lord Edric Storm.

But then he started listening to Melisandre, rumored to be his half sister like Jon was to Sansa. He now knew that the red witch whispered poison to his ears, making him question the fidelity of not only his most trusted knight but also his beloved Queen. He began to be paranoid, watching for any sign of tenderness she showed to Jon. He remembered even interrogating his daughter about the two to her disbelief. Shireen told him that they always acted with honor, which made him feel guilty of his dishonor, his role in the death of his younger brother. Even Davos told him to not listen to the red witch, saying that the Queen, if anything, was too good for him. Davos' knowing eyes also made him feel guilty in fucking Melisandre.

So he sent him away, and his Queen could not stand to be by his side. She would not come to his chambers and kept her doors locked. He told her before he would respect her desire for privacy and would never demand his rights. Now he was so sad, so alone as everyone he really cared for was gone. Davos would not speak to him but instead only spoke in his official capacity. Shireen was also angered that he hurt her mother.

He wanted his sweet Queen back, his Queen of Love and Beauty. He could not let this go any longer. Knocking on her locked and barred doors, he pled that she opened her doors. When he saw her so sad and pale, he wanted to cry. 

"Your grace, ask the question, the question you wanted an answer. Ask me if I love Ser Jon, if I love him more than life itself."

"Sansa, it matters naught. I will bring him back."

"Nay, it matters the most. You cannot bring him back as it would make you look weak in the eyes of your people, your Court, your Kingdom. The King is never wrong. Ask me, Stannis, if you even care for me."

"Sansa, please... I don't want to know. I can pretend nothing happened. We all do things we regret. Please come back to me...." he cried and begged.

"Stannis, for all things dear and good, ask me the question I see in your eyes, your indictment of me in your actions, your conviction of me in your heart. Ask me, damn it!"

"Do you love him more than life itself?"

"Yea, I do for he is goodness personified, unselfish and generous of heart. He is worthier than we both combined... Now you know, you must cast me aside, to quash any rumors that the child I will bear is of another. You must let me go... I want to go to the Maidenpool as you promised me, to live my life in obscurity and peace." 

She was crying but her eyes were resolute. He knew that there was naught he could do to stop her. If she was able to escape Lord Petyr in the almost impenetrable Eyrie, she would be able to escape no matter what magick he had Davos or Melisandre place on her room. He heard the rumors that she had the blood and the old magic of the First Men. He did not want her to leave. But she was right that now he knew, he wouldn't be able to live with her or love her, not knowing if the babe to be was his. 

He shook his head and broken heartedly walked away. 

The next day she was gone, leaving a note saying that she loved Jon as her brother, her only remaining family member. She was no Lannister even when she wed Tyrion. She would always trade her life for Jon's as she would for him and Shireen. She loved him so.

He had his men search for both Ser Jon and his Queen but they could not be found. He never married again, but held close to his heart a lock of her red hair and her last letter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is written for TommyGinger and Fat_joey.
> 
> I wrote this when listening to Annie Lennox's version of Cole Porter's "Ev'ry time we say goodbye."
> 
> "There's no love song finer but how strange  
> The change from major to minor  
> Ev'ry time we say goodbye"


	20. Wisdom of Kings (Sandor and Sansa)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sandor/Sansa, the Vikings (TV show)
> 
> Their wedding night and she has a knife she hid.

The Northern King was an idiot! That dumb arse was willing to give him, a brute, the most precious jewel of the North because he couldn't keep his cock in his pants. 

Looking at the smiling Queen, who was absolutely oblivious that it was she who cost the King almost a third of his forces, Sandor snorted and spat! That dumb cow was passably pretty, but definitely not worth it, not a keeper, especially in the harsh light of the morn. Ev'ry warrior know to fuck and leave cunts like her and never look back. 

But the Northern princess who was promised to him, she is a true lady worth fighting for! Her strikingly beautiful face is a 'face that launch'd a thousand ships, And burnt the topless towers of Ilium.' For Lady Sansa, his betrothed, even he would brave the fires of hell to see her red burning bush. He would worship it and lavish it with much attention.

Her blue eyes blazed with such anger when her maidenhood was bartered for military victories for the North. That Northern princess had passion - he knew that once he broke her, she would warm his bed nicely. He loved that fire in her - her anger at being pawned off by her family to another, another pretender. 

He knew he was no hero, never did anything unless it benefitted him. Had killed anyone - the old, the young, women - without blinking, but gave them all quick mercy, more than his older brother would do. Had watched whole villages pillaged and burned down. Better they than him.

But now he would kill anyone, including her bloody King, if they do her any harm. She was his, and he was hers. This he vows, watching her chest heave during the ceremony. While tears streamed down her face, she refused to look at him or be cowered by him towering over her, looking down her high necked Northern dress. Tis a shame it was too cold in the North for the Southron or Dornish dresses as what he could see, he wanted to touch - her lovely pale neck to be suckled and bitten and her long and graceful fingers to hold and pump his large cock.

When the large doors closed upon him after the ceremony, he saw that she ran to the back of the large room. He would have to catch her! Laughing, he made a fake move towards her, and she runs to the other side as he quickly pivoted to intercept her. She was surprisingly quick, but not fast enough. 

He grabbed her kicking and screaming body and pinned her to the bed, licking her face with long licks and sighs of pleasure as she whimpered and growled. With a surprisingly amount of adrenaline, she bucks him off and reached for something under the pillow. Using his quick reflexes, he grabbed her wrist as she tried to stab him with a knife she hid. 

They stared into each other's eyes for what seemed like an eternity. He never felt shame before, never in taking what was his after a raid, the women he took, other's hard earned foodstuff and furs and coins. But he felt shame, looking into her frightened yet fierce eyes. She was a lady yet also a fellow warrior, not a dumb whore. She was to be respected and cared for.

Letting go of her wrist, he tore off his tunic, baring his hairy chest and nodded to her as if to tell her to bury that knife into his heart. She looked confused as if torn between her freedom and her allegiance to her King and to the North. Looking at her eyes, he could not tell whether it was his last mistake or whether it could be the start of a new life for him.

She dropped her knife and covered her face, weeping. He covered her trembling body and held her until she finally fell to sleep. He knew he would do anything (or in the case of their wedding night, not do anything) for his Northern princess. Perhaps the King chose wisely afterall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> inspired by swimmingfox, an amazing writer!!!!
> 
> quote between apostrophes is by Christopher Marlowe from a poem with the same name.


	21. Trick (Margaery and Stannis)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stannis x Margaery, cherry stem trick
> 
> When the bartender handed him his drink, he scowled. This frou frou drink with an umbrella AND a plastic sword pierced with two cherries was not what he ordered or so he thought....

It was a wonderful night to be young, rich and beautiful! Hell, every night was wonderful for people like her and her retinue (she still could not understand why Sansa, who could be Queen Bey herself, hung around with the help or the c-list, mousy Jeyne Pool, sharp tongued Beth Cassel, boyish Mya, and the only "titles" being boring Shireen and randy Randa!)! 

She stretched luxuriantly and purring, watching with her made up kitten eyes all the men staring at her backless gold mesh dress. Hold - wait, one man by the bar is not noticing her act, and she could tell that he wasn't even pretending to ignore her! WTF!

Nodding to the man discretely, she questions her ladies regarding his identity.

Megga giggles, "That is Lord Stannis Baratheon. He is rumored to not have a funny bone in his body."

Margaery confidently said, "I am funny enough for any man. And I care about other types of bones... and boning."

Her girls all turned and stared at the slightly balding man, whose jaw and fists seem permanently clenched. They busted out tittering, which made the man more agitated as he noticed them staring and laughing at him.

Alla continued, "He is an accomplished horseman, and I heard that even in her hey day, which must be during the Stone Ages, Cersei tried and failed to seduce him, saying that she had a better chance of seducing his horse."

If there is a woman that she and her gram hated, it was Cersei, the mum of his betrothed. 

"She acts likes she got something/something. Like NOT!!! Even when she was like sixty years younger, she was such a bitter bitch. She had to pay for male companionship." 

Again the girls giggled as they delicately sipped their fruity cocktails, watching the man turn red at their attention.

"Girls, watch and learn. I like a challenge!" She flipped back her lustrous pony tail and called a server to get him a pineapple and sage gimlet but with a plastic sword piercing two cherries and one for her, the drink a nod to his Mad Men look. Nice tailored suit and sharp looking shoes.

Stannis looked tall, dark and tasty. She could drink him up and she aimed for him to personally find that out. The first word that came to her mind after ordering the drinks and waiting for the moment of her grand entrance was 'Mount Everest.' She wanted to climb him because he is there. She wanted to plant her flag on his pert ass!

Finally, she saw the server handing him both drinks as he scowled and tried to demur. The server nodded towards her, and it was her cue, her time to rise from her seat like Venus rising from the sea. She heard the other men sighing as she gracefully got up and raised her arms aloft as if she was getting ready to pole dance and did a subtle hip roll. His eyes widened. Yea, he was a man like any other man.

She walked confidently towards him, head held high, hips swaying and smiling like a kitty who stole some milk. 

She stopped when her pert breasts peeking through her large key hole in her dress were only a few inches from his face. 

"I am thirsty. May I?" she motioned towards the sword in his drink.

Looking shocked, he nodded slowly and watched her ripe red lips slowly pulled one cherry from the sword. She then pulled out the stem with a pop as her body flinched.

"Do you want to see a trick?" she asked as the man seemed frozen, like a deer, or a stag remembering the crest of his house, in the headlights. After she ate the sweet tart cherry, she sucked the stem in, appreciatively looked him up and down, manipulated the stem with her tongue and then stuck her tongue out with the stem now shaped like a heart. This was her time to go in for some intense tonguing, but as she leaned into the man with amazingly deep blue eyes, she felt her head pulled back! 

Some bitch was pulling her pony tail back, and that bitch was Sansa, who was growling. Looking at the tall and muscular siren, who she heard was doing kickboxing with Sandor, Margaery backed away sheepishly and apologetically. She heard the wolf bitch quietly complain as the man stammered, "Stannis, I can't leave you alone for a few minutes..."


	22. Pride (Tywin/Joanna)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tywin/Joanne
> 
> David Bowie's powerful version of Wild as the Wind.  
> "Give me more  
> Than one caress  
> Satisfy this  
> Hungriness  
> Let the wind  
> Blow through your heart  
> For wild is the wind  
> Wild is the wind"

Before he shuddered awake, she was with him. He could almost feel her, her soft skin, and smell her distinctive clean lavender mint fragrance so different from the musky sandalwood her lady friends seemingly dipped themselves in. She haunted him.

That is why he did not allow himself to sleep long as he would dream of her, his lady wife. Not gentle lady. Nay, she was a lioness, more dangerous than anyone he knew, even himself.

All those fools, even the mad king, only saw her cool blond beauty and her grace and underestimated her, thought her to be a kitten. Not realizing her brilliance. Her clever mind and fierce and generous heart. That was what made him fall for her. None of their children had all of her gifts - his daughter was the most lacking yet the one who foolishly believed in her own greatness.

Their courtship was not like the song unless the lady was the knight and the knight the lady. He laughed, remembering her pursuing him, for she saw such promise in him. Many thought him decisive but they did not know his lady Joanna - what she wanted, she would always get. She wanted him. And luckily for him, he wanted what she wanted. They were always aligned.

Without her, he felt that he lost his compass. She would know what to do with the brat Joffrey and the equally problematic weak Tommen. In fact, she would have never allowed it to happen - she would have stopped these abominations from occurring, the inbreeding she knew resulted in madness like the madness of Aerys.

Not even the mad King could capture her even though his lecherous eyes fell on her. He tried to trap her and she managed to lock him in a closet by plying him with wine and making him chase her into the closet with a trap door that only she knew, and had her friend, her poor queen, save her by banishing her from Kingslanding to the safety of their home.

He remembered her roaring in private. Their couplings always fast and hard. He shuddered, his mind recalling his back bloodied by her sharp claws. How alive he felt and powerful!

She also roared exhorting him into action - telling him the pieces he needed he had, telling that it is naught the time for caution but time for concerted action with the North, Dorne, and the Vale. He waited for the Tullys who she scoffed as being absolutely worthless other than Blackfish and he was only borderline competent. His wife was singleminded about furthering and protecting the interests of her family, which included her friends, but she would never acted as foolishly as that Tully girl who married the dull Ned Stark. That girl dearly paid for her stupidity by the destruction of both of her sides of her family, two great houses - House Stark and House Tully.

He knew that he let his wife down for not saving her Queen. And now he realized he did worse by her by not going with her plan to wed Jaime with Elia. If only.

If he were honest with himself, he did not sleep because he did not want to see her disappointment in him, her well deserved anger towards him. 

That was why he slept with whores so he could forget. They could never fully distract him for they were not her. Not even Tyrion's Shae who was laying beside him.

'What was that, that sound in the closet? Is that you Joanna?'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to go with Nina Simone's version which was more raw.
> 
> I did not fully capture Tywin in my second attempt of writing him - hopefully, my third try would be more successful.


	23. Her Hands (Catelyn and Ned)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be a fill about a song inspiration - Stevie Wonder's "As". 
> 
> But it turned into something else as most of my writing does - which is all right because it was my own prompt after all (lol).

He loves her hands.

When she falls asleep, he would trace them with his fingers, finding comfort in them before finding his rest. Tiny callouses from sewing and mending all of their boys's clothing (luckily little Sansa takes care of her and her sister's clothing). So strong and capable (he ruefully remembers that strong index finger of hers admonishing him or directing him and others to action). Yet so soft and delicate as they touch his face seemingly in wonder (he oft wonder if she still thinks of Brandon) down to his chest. 

He knows that Robert would laugh at him at this. But then he backtracks - Robert would understand, recalling Robert waxing poetic about Lyanna. He smiles.

Looking at her hands that he gently intertwines with his, he vows again, as he does ev'ry night, to be worthy of her hand. To be strong, to be the man she deserves. To care and provide for her and their brood. To protect them and buttress them against the coming storms.


	24. Tight spaces (Jaime and Sansa)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime x Sansa, the movie Out of Sight
> 
> Jaime, the most successful bank robber in the country, busts out of jail, and finds himself stealing something far more precious than money - smart and sexy Federal Marshal Sansa's heart.

[Trunk slams shut.]

Sansa is rolling her eyes, not believing her rookie mistake in not checking her back and getting disarmed so quickly. Pouting a bit, she knew the guys at the station would mock her, but she knew if she stayed calm and wait for the moment she would apprehend both the inmate and his accomplice. One thing that worked to her advantage is the obvious attraction the inmate felt for her - she was pretty sure that wasn't a gun pressing against her ass. 

She smiled thinking of her father who would likely get pissed about how she always got herself in such tight spaces even though she always wiggled herself out; and this is indeed one of the tightest situations she has been in. The man was practically spooning her, his groin pressed tightly against her ass, his large hand on her full hip with fingers playfully drumming on her round ass (yup, the fine results of six months of "Buns of Steel"), and his hot breath on her neck. It seemed like his lips were only inches from her neck.

"You know, you are very easy to talk to," the man said.

"Excuse me? We are not talking," she responded. She turned and his face was right next to hers. He smiled his corny smile, probably the smile he used to pick up teenage girls at high school football games, but she couldn't help but grin back. 

"But aren't we? You know, talking right now. I am talking, and you just replied."

She could not help but snort at that. She turned back, not looking at him.

"See, wasn't that easy? You know, I always find that it is easy to talk to pretty nice girls... Hey, was that an eye roll? I can see your eyes rolling even from back here." The man jested, and he proceeded to gently move back her hair from her neck.

"Do you always use that line?" she asked.

"Only to pretty nice girls." Sansa could practically sense and feel his smile as his lips were on her neck. It felt like he was licking her.

"Do you know that you remind me of someone?" he asked. 

She had to giggle - his game was so old. He playfully poked her nose as she tried to squat his hand away.

"No, seriously. Stop giggling. I am serious. Kitty Nickleman... Not that wasn't right. You know, the Oscar winning actress that did that sexy dance in front of the car headlights and married some short dude."

She snorted again, not believing that he just referred to Tom Cruise as the short dude even if that was true. 

"Nicole Kidman."

"Yup. You have her red mane and her creamy skin when she was on the boat with the Australian older dude... what was the name of the movie?"

"Dead Calm. And the actor was Sam Neill, and he is a Kiwi." 

"Dead Calm, yup, that is the movie. You know, you are so calm. Most would be scared and freaked out in your position."

"There is nothing I can do right now. Do you want me to scream?"

"Well..." His hand was now moving from her hair, down to the small of her back and then to its final resting place on her bottom. She started to feel a bit warm and huffed.

"Sorry about that - there is no place for my hand... Where were we? Oh, yeah, Nicole Kidman... My favorite movie is Moulin Rouge."

She had to turn around because that used to be her favorite movie and thought he must be shitting her. But when she saw his face, his eyes showed his true love for the movie, a movie about doomed love, about sacrifice, about what is meant by true beauty. Shaking her head, she thought he wasn't what she expected from an escaped prisoner at all. He was a bit feely but he was actually easy to talk to, although she would never admit it to him. 

"I don't get it, how quick it was." She somehow felt that she had to explain to him the flaw with the movie. There is no such thing is true love - better to know that than to have your heart torn into smithereens.

"Quick?"

"Yeah, how Christian fell instantly in love with Satine. I don't buy it."

He laughs - his breath hot on her face and his lips so close to hers. She could not help but squeeze her thighs, hoping he did not see but knew that he, of course, not only saw, but felt her legs clamp together. Turning back, she blushes.

"She was a goddess come to life..."

The car came to a sudden halt, and she reached for her gun she hid by her thigh. Elbowing him hard in the gut, she quickly turned around and clocked him on the head. She climbs over him and gets behind his rock hard body. Breathing slowly, she waits for the trunk to open.

[Bang, bang, bang.]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Tommyginger.
> 
> This is my favorite scene in the movie and hopefully, I did not follow it too faithfully or ruin the best part of it - it felt like a really narrow tight rope I was walking on.


	25. Love is love (Bran, Jojen, Rickon and Sansa)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Love is love is love is love is love is love is love is love, cannot be killed or swept aside"
> 
> Lin-Manuel Miranda

He smiled over Rickon's head at Jojen when he saw Rickon laughing at the antics of Baloo. Jojen was right again (and will gently lord this over him) that the Jungle Book was a great movie!

Once the movie was over, he makes a pit stop and doesn't check his phone. There was something about the movie that he wanted to retain, a sort of back to nature and back to innocence vibe. He wished that Sansa, his big sister, did not have to work multiple shifts this week and could have gone with them because she would have loved it (she would screamed at the scary parts, sing the songs, cry and hug them all with her scary long arms). But she wanted to earn as much money so she could to afford their upcoming Disney World vacation - the first time back since that night.

In the car, Rickon was still chatting excitedly about the movie. The wolf pack scenes really resonated with Rickon and frankly with him too (Jojen reached to hold his hands at those parts that earned them ewws from Rickon).

When they got home, they were surprised that Sansa was waiting and crying. His heart sank, thinking the worst - something bad happened to Jon in Afghanistan or maybe Arya in a fatal car accident like the one that took their parents and Rob. The strange thing was instead of reaching out to Rickon, the babe of their family, she hugged both him and Jojen, crying that she loved them both, that they were loved. He always made fun of her long limbs (they all did with Arya calling her a freak of nature that her legs are almost tall as Arya's whole body), but her hugs always made him feel better, even this wet one. It is because he knew that she loved him and unlike Arya who is in college and even Rickon now, he never outgrew them. When he felt guilty about being the only survivor of the crash that took their parents and Robb, down about his legs, or felt like no one understood him, he knew that she got his back, that they all do. She always said they were pack, telling them her wolf stories complete with howls. 

When she finally pulled away, she made a sad smile. She pulled the popcorn out of Rickon's hair and kissed him. Rickon groaned and ran away.

"I forgot that you guys took Rickon to the movie. I tried to call you multiple times but you must have had the phone off. I could not get a hold of Jojen, and I kinda freaked out... I even got Sandor to drive around looking for you."

"But I thought both you and Sandor were working today. What happened?" asked Bran.

"The diner had the TV on, and there was a horrible mass shooting in Orlando, so many deaths and gravely injured. The killer targeted gays, and I just..."

Both he and Jojen hugged her. His heart was pounding fast. Both he and Jojen kept their relationship discrete in public mainly because they were private people and also because he saw how openly gay kids were ostracized and threatened at school. The kids at school just thought he, Jojen, Shireen and Meera were nerdy pals instead of two same sex couples. But he told Sansa and Arya, and they both accepted him. They knew already.

"I'm scared because there is so much hate," his sister whispered. 

Looking at his sister and Jojen, he suddenly felt so angry that his sister was scared for him and his love, that he felt that he had to hide his love, that there were such senseless and horrific killings. That was what was wrong!

He saw Jojen try to console his sister by saying that it could be anyone being targeted. 

Bran knew that just wasn't true and had to speak out.

"No, it was attack against people like us, Jojen. I cannot cower and hide, pretending to be dating your sister. I am scared but as my da said, 'That is the only time a man can be brave'."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GRRM's quote between apostrophes - "A Game of Thrones."


	26. Discipline (Shireen and Rickon)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shireen, spanking  
> Rickon has been a bad boy...

Well, that was unexpected. They were both red faced and panting heavily. And the lesson she wanted to impart to Rickon went sideways, actually more than sideways as he remarked with a rakish grin, "I want to be naughty."

She must think! How did this all happen? What did her father say to her? Yes, she needed to go to the beginning!

She first noticed that while Rickon seemed to be behaving better, he seemed unnaturally dispirited. He did not join in the trainings but holed up in his room, oft howling sadly with Shaggydog at the moon.

She confronted Davos about her observations of the young lord and her concerns that he was never going to be ready to take over the wardenship. Davos remarked that patient Lady Sansa was much distressed at Rickon's latest stunt and finally bursted into tears. He remarked that Rickon was much like his boys and needed discipline, a firm swat or two in the arse, pardon his language, and be told that it was wrong and what was right. Davos complained that Lady Sansa was too soft on the young lord, and he would likely turn into a floppy lord like his granuncle Lord Edmure who did not know his mouth from his well...

Disturbed as she knew of Lord Edmure and his weaknesses from her father, she started studying any texts she could find about child rearing (there were none which seemed odd but explained a lot, especially about Joffrey) and discipline (the only texts she found related to training horses). She decided to try to apply the principles of the horse training texts with the blunt and practical words of Davos. The first thing she decided was not to use ropes as she did not want Rickon to feel trapped, but she thought a switch could be useful. Practicing using the switch on her pillow, she decided a few quick and hard swats should do it. He also needed treats or incentives - she would have to improvise regarding that.

When she called Rickon to her solar, she saw that his spirits were low, his head drooping sadly. 

"Lord Rickon, do you know why you sister was aggrieved?"

"I shit on her latest suitor's bed."

Her eyes closed, and she now understood Sansa's response which she initially thought was overwrought. But she must stay calm like her father does and focus on her objectives.

"Do you know why it was wrong?"

"It made Sansa cry."

"That was not the right answer. Rickon, bend over." She swatted him lightly.

"Ugh," he grunted. She hit him harder on both cheeks. He moaned. Somehow that sound made her feel something, a burning sensation in her body and a wetness between her legs....

Shaking her head, she did not want to think of that or what is currently between her legs, a red mop of hair connected to the strong body of the young lord of the Keep! 

He needed an incentive to do the right thing, and he was to be her betrothed. 

Gently pushing him away, she said, "Nay, if you are naughty, there will be none of this. If you are good..."

"Shireen, I will be good and good to you." 

They both smiled. A lesson was learned.


	27. Carry Your Heart (Arthur and Sansa)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of prior drabbles of Ser Arthur and his lady Sansa
> 
> [Crushed](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6288292/chapters/15539977)
> 
> [Sweet violets of early spring (Arthur)](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6288292/chapters/15651523)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is written for AgNO3. It is super sweet that AgNO3 reads my stuff when many of the pairings and the premises aren't typically things she reads.
> 
> I also wrote this for corinne157 who wants happy endings (me too!).

She was running! She had to get to Ser Arthur before it was too late! She crashed into a solid body and almost fell backwards but was held softly in place by strong beautiful hands that she often worshipped.

"My Lady Sansa, forgive me as I did not see you. Did I hurt you?" Arthur asked. His arms automatically embraced her, and her heart was beating so fast and so loudly that she feared he could hear it.

She could not speak, which greatly worried the knight who spoke softly into her hair.

"My sweet little lady, I am so sorry but I needs to take you away. I am not a young man. I do not hold any land nor great wealth needed to afford you the comforts you are used to and deserve. But I will care for you and cherish you always. You should never marry a monster." He cried as he quickly carried her to the stables as if she weighed naught but air. He gently covered her with his cloak but left a small hole so she could breathe easily and see his sad face looking down upon her.

It was quite lovely to be in his arms! But her mind was trying to comprehend his words and his guilty and sad facial expressions. There was something that was amiss. He thought that she wanted another, someone younger and wealthier, when all she ever wanted was him, a true knight who acted gallantly and was so kind. She did not know how to tell him as it seemed so forward, but she knew that he needed to understand this, need to understand that she loved him too.

She rested her tiny hand on his chest, and he whimpered. 

"Please, Ser Arthur..." 

He immediately placed her lightly on her feet and looked ashen and ashamed.

"My sweet lady, please forgive me - this is naught something I would typically do, steal beautiful, kind ladies but I must..." he cried in anguish.

"Gentle Ser, please do not be distressed. You cannot steal what is freely given, that is, I have fond and tender feelings towards you," she whispered shyly. 

He reached for her tiny hand and gently held it, opening her hand so that her palm faced upward. He gently kissed her open hand and blushed deeply. She blushes deeply, and they walked, holding hands, toward the stable where the King had horses, a carriage, a squire, her friend Jeyne, an armed escort and supplies (including large sleeping tents and plush beddings for the ladies) ready. The King and Queen were to follow the next day or so.

Arthur had dreams of love, like in the songs, the songs she sang so beautifully and so passionately, but never believed that they could be true for him. He made his vows when very young and did not realize then the magnitude of his decision. He knew that other knights made similar vows of celibacy but did not abide by them. But that was never an option for him - he took his vows seriously and felt that he had to be fully committed to protecting his King and Queen, understanding that others could use his love for another as a way to harm the Kingdom. It was only recently that he truly regretted his decision as he did love serving both his King, his friend, and his Queen. 

And he knew that his regret had much to do with the lovely lady walking towards him. She was not perfect, but perfectly imperfect for him. Sansa was not the best of riders and thus, she rode with him (which they both loved) or sometimes in the carriage with her friend (when she got a bit sore from riding). He loved her flights of silliness and whimsy, how they uplifted his heart and spirits - he did feel a bit of guilt for the King releasing him from his vows, but was so relieved and happy when he was released. But it was her kindness and generosity of heart, how sweet and gracious she naturally was, that made him fall for her over and over again during their leisurely flight to Maidenpool.

His eyes were blown out by seeing her in her bridal gown that the Queen commissioned. Tiny little pearl appliqués lined the top of the sweetheart neckline of the white lace covered bodice that cinched to her tiny waist. The skirt of the dress was flowing. Her long auburn hair adorned with his star hair pin was flowing down her back. Her lovely face seemed to glow. Her blue eyes were full of love. She was the Maiden come to life.

He could not recall the ceremony, only remembering how sweetly she smiled and perfectly it felt when he draped his cloak onto her shoulders and made her vows of love, protection, fidelity, friendship and trust. He promised her that he would try his best to give her the stars even though they do not shine as bright as her eyes. He heard some snorts at that, seeing his King gently nudge the Queen as both smiled indulgently at them.

His sweet lady gave him the best promise - to give her heart to him, to love him with all of her heart. And he responded that he would carry her heart in his wherever he goes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by this poem by EE Cummings
> 
> "I carry your heart with me (I carry it in my heart)  
> I am never without it (anywhere  
> I go you go,my dear; and whatever is done by only me is your doing,my darling)  
> I fear no fate (for you are my fate,my sweet)  
> I want no world (for beautiful you are my world,my true)  
> and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant and whatever a sun will always sing is you
> 
> here is the deepest secret nobody knows  
> (here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows  
> higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)  
> and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart
> 
> I carry your heart (I carry it in my heart)"


	28. As (Ned and Catelyn, mention of Sansa)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catelyn, Stevie Wonder's "As"  
> Ned watching Catelyn (with their babes, being feisty, etc.) thinking "I'll be loving you always."

It was his favorite time of the day. 

Not because all of his duties for the day were done and any remaining could be done the next day. Not because he was physically exhausted from chasing his imp of a daughter (who got into all sorts of the trouble) and from training with the men and his young boys who grew so quickly (he was shocked to find out both of oldest boys were already shaving!).

It was the time he could leisurely watch his wife tuck in their little rascals, Arya, Bran (who climbed everywhere), and part wolf Rickon, and, his favorite moment, his wife brushing out and rebraiding his little lady's hair loosely for the night. He would always lean against Sansa's open door and watch his two ladies whisper, giggle, hug and kiss. His wife always noticed his rare smiles and would nod knowingly at him while little Sansa would be oblivious of his presence as her back would be facing the door. 

Sansa is such a bright light with her sweet smiles and bell-like laughter! While all of his children were happy children, the others tended to be more somber and more cynical than his innocent and so trusting little lady. Ned wanted so much for Sansa to remain that way, so pure and innocent, as long as possible. This was the source of one of the bigger arguments he had with Catelyn as she thought it would be best to teach to Sansa to be more wary, especially among boys and men she did not know. Catelyn told him of what happened to Lysa, but he argued their dutiful Sansa was nothing like her willful sister Lysa. He strongly argued against teaching Sansa to fear since all the Northern men and boys know that he would cleave them into two if they looked at his daughter inappropriately or treated her with disrespect. Even Theon gave her wide berth from his lecherous attentions, no heated glances and no advances.

He loved his little princess but did not know how to act or know what to say in front of her to Catelyn's irritation. He was afraid to say anything that could offend her or hurt her feelings - she seemed so fragile and so foreign to him, like the way Catelyn was initially to him. But he had realized that Catelyn was much stronger than he thought, more strong willed than the delicate lady he thought her to be.

He remembered when they first met. He thought she was a beautiful and gentle Southern lady, and he never met a lady before. His manners were so poor in comparison to Brandon's - she awkwardly smiled when he did not take her offered hand. With the memory of his brother hanging over them, it took them quite a few years after they got married before they even got comfortable with each other although they respected each other from the onset. Then they developed trust, although it was much tested because of Jon, which then led to friendship and finally love. Sansa was the product of their love, their precious love that he strived so hard to always safeguard. And when he saw her with their children and by his side, he felt so blessed that he had such a wonderful wife and mother to their children. 

Sometimes when he looked at his two ladies, he imagined that it was an older Sansa brushing her daughter's (his granddaughter's) hair. He could not wait for the blessed days when his children would have their own children so that he and Catelyn could be grandparents.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was written in memory of my da. I know that he loved me - he just did not "get" me nor I him. I always wanted him to be proud of me - I love him warts and all!


	29. Sugar baby (Tywin and Margaery and Sansa)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Margaery x Tywin, Sugar Mama  
> After retiring after many years of being the young buck gigolo and now a proprietor of a discrete and high end male escort service, Tywin is pleasantly surprised about the personal request of his new patron, Margaery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by this GRRM quote: "Only Lady Joanna truly knows the man beneath the armor, and all his smiles belong to her and her alone. I do avow that I have even observed her make him laugh, not once, but on three separate occasions!"

Like her grandmother, Margaery has fast become his biggest patron, hiring his young bucks to be eye candy and sometimes something much more for her many charity galas. They escorted her wealthy guests who were mostly single and valued discretion above all else. His young studs knew better than to air the names of their clientele - he only needed to make one example, Viserys who talked too much.

So he was not surprised when Margaery asked for a private meeting. It was a few weeks before her biggest event. Last year, she hired all of his men and paid twice the normal asking price.

When he went to shake her hand, she reached up and pulled his face to her face and kissed him soundly on the lips.

"You would do."

Tywin smirked and replied, "I no longer escort but I can find you a mature and distinguished gent to escort you to your gala."

"I have a date already for the night, my brother Loras. You are to be a gift, a birthday gift for my friend... Before you say no, I remind you that my gala is only two weeks away, and I am your biggest patron," she smiled prettily.

Yes, young sweet faced Margaery had as sharp tongue as her grandmother. At first, he worried for her as he knew she was recently seeing his grandchild, but now he realized that he should not worry. It was Joffrey who should worry.

Her hard eyes softened. "Please. She needs healing - she just left an abusive relationship and has trust issues. She needs a man who is gentle but strong. My grandmother told me that you can heal her, like what you did for her friend."

Eyes closing, he remembered his very last job, healing sessions for Joanna, who was so brave and beautiful and kind. He could still remember her blue eyes so frightened and panicked at first. All they did the first day was hugging her with her back facing him and smelling her lavender scented hair. Joanna was so ashamed, being raped by another friend's husband. She blamed herself and felt she betrayed her friend Rhaella. At the end, he made an unlikely friend, his best friend, who later became his lover and finally his wife. He missed her so. 

Since that day, the day they first met, Tywin no longer escorted even though his late wife did not protest. He did not want to cheat or betray her.

"I regret I must decline." He shook his head and closed his eyes, regretting losing her business.

"Please... The poor girl is broken... My grandmother told me to ask you - what would Joanna want you to do?"

His eyes flew open. Tywin was enraged that the Tyrells threw out her name, his beloved late wife's name at him. He loathed them, the Tyrell bitches, and wanted to storm out! But it was his wife's spirit, that guilted him into begrudgingly accepting the job. Margaery slipped a fat envelope to him, which he later discovered was five times the normal rates.

Getting ready for the night, he methodically went through his ritual. He cleaned himself thoroughly, brushing his teeth, flossing, showering, etc. He trimmed his beard and plucked what he needed to. He made sure that everything smelled fresh and clean. He did not use any cologne or scented deodorant as that might be a trigger.

Fingering the hotel key card, he thought of returning the fat envelope. But Joanna would want him to help this poor girl. He drove to the luxe oceanfront hotel and was shown to the private elevator that took him to the penthouse suite. When he opened the double doors, he did not see anyone but the balcony door was open, the long sheer curtains were blowing inward, and he saw through the sheer curtains the back of a tall, voluptuous woman with striking red hair. She wore a fluffy white robe which did nothing to hide her figure. The scene looked almost like a painting of a beautiful red haired woman overlooking the ocean.

He strode outside, making sure that she heard his steps and even clearing his throat. She stiffened but did not turn around. He saw the faint bruises marking her pale arms, and he was so angry, remembering how that man hurt his Joanna.

"I am not ready for this. I am sorry for wasting your time," she whispered. She trembled and started to cry.

"My lady, you are never a waste of time." 

Tywin could not help but kiss the top of her damp hair - she needed comfort and needed to feel that she has worth. She leaned back, and he silently leaned towards her, loosely holding her shoulder until her shuddering tears stopped. Her tiny hands fluttered with anxiety, and he rubbed them with his open hands, trying to relax them. The girl, for she was a girl in a woman's body, held his hands.

"You are not going to hurt me?" she tentatively asked.

"No. Even if you ask, I would never hurt you," he vowed. 

Her tiny hands were freezing cold - he needed to get her back inside. He gently stepped back and whispered into her right ear, "I am a bit cold - let us go inside." He turned to go inside, and after a few minutes, she followed.

When he saw her, he recognized her and was angry that it was his grandchild who hurt and abused this beautiful young lady. Tywin could not mask his anger, and she flinched, nervously backing away. 

Smoothing his scowling face, he tried to smile which turned into an awkward grimace - it had been a long time since he truly smiled and not smirked. Somehow that broke the ice as Sansa snorted and giggled.

"So you think I look funny?" he fake growled at her.

"Ugh... I am sorry, Mister Lannister. This is such an awkward situation... I did not expect you... did not expect you smiling at me."

He realized that when they met before, he was not kind. Because he knew his daughter and his grandchildren were waiting for him to die to inherit his fortune, he hated being around his daughter and her family. When he saw Sansa before, he discounted her and thought only silly and stupid girls would be with his grandson who he thought was an asshole. But he did not know that Joffrey hit his girlfriends. He could see his late wife rolling in her grave, with the disappointments that are their children (with the dwarf being the marginally best of the bunch) and with their grandchild no better than Aerys.

Tywin knew he had to try to right this wrong, feeling that he shared in the responsibility of raising that lout. After Joanna died, he frankly had no time for his children - they reminded him of her. Perhaps if things were different, there would be no scars on this young girl, physical and the deeper and more permanent emotional scars. She had Joanna's blue eyes that showed her every emotion - so much fear and shame. Just as before, he felt his cold heart melt.

He held out his hands to her, and she slowly and bravely reached out to hold his hands. Tywin smiled a genuine smile that she matched. She whispered that she even flinched being near her brothers and even her father. That just wouldn't do.

"What should I do, Mister Lannister?" she asked nervously. He continued to rub tiny circles on the back of her hands.

"Sansa, please call me Tywin. You are in control. I do what you want. I trust you. You are good."

He knew that many would naturally see her as a submissive - she was so eager to please - but he wanted her to dominate him. He laid on the table five black strips of cloth for covering his eyes and binding him. He demonstrated how they worked wordlessly, watching intently her expressions. For some, this may be too much as it was for Joanna, who could only stand chaste hugs even after many hours. But Sansa's eyes looked intrigued. So he tied his wrists and his ankles the long strips and covered his eyes. Holding out his arms, he was letting her take charge. Tywin was pleasantly surprised that she gently led them to the master bedroom.

He heard her whisper that she did not know what to do, that she only had sex one time with Joffrey, which made his teeth gnash as he know that shit would be a selfish and uncaring and cruel lover.

He gently asked if she wanted to tie him to the bed and have him remove his clothes. He heard nothing and waited. 

"Sansa, did you nod or shake your head? I can't see anything."

Sansa did another soft snort and giggle. "I forgot you couldn't see. Um, we can remove your shirt before we tie your wrist to the post."

It seemed so intimate having her help him unbutton his shirt - her fingers delicately dancing down his chest and stomach. He helped her tie his wrist to the post, telling her to tighten the knot if she wanted but she left it tied loosely, not wanting to hurt him. There was more silence and waiting. 

He held out his free hand and again she reached for it. He smiled again and could hear her huff of maybe amusement. 

He asked, "Sweet Sansa, do you want to touch me or just watch me? You can touch... I will not break."

She giggled some more, but less nervously. With her other hand, she gently traced his chest hairs from one side to the other and then moved her hand down his body so enticingly. He stifled a moan but she could see his arousal.

"Did I do that?"

"Yes." 

He gently kissed the hand that was holding his. She then proceeded to kiss him, first enticingly near his mouth, his beard covered jaw line, his neck, his chest so close to his nipples and gently butterfly kisses on his stomach. Her free hand was gripping his biceps, to keep her balance.

She whispered, "You are so different than what I imagine. So gentle and patient with me... I only want to touch and kiss you... I don't think I am ready for more than that."

"Hmmmm. Sweet girl, you are in control. Take what you need from me," he quietly spoke.

His kind words were rewarded with a sloppy but cute kiss on his mouth. Tywin could not help laughing, and she laughed too. 

They did what she wanted, and each session they did a little more or sometimes less. But in the latter sessions, they mostly talked and confided in each other about their feelings of guilt - they both felt responsible for what Joffrey done. Although they both realized that it was stupid to feel that way, that feeling hung over them both for many months. It took them almost six months before they got over that guilt and came out to their respective family that they were a committed couple (after their first session, he returned that fat envelope to Margaery along with a short thank you card).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I am having a hard time with Tywin's character. It is killing me!!!! Arghhhh!


	30. Frigid (Jon and Sansa)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon x Sansa, Actors AU  
> The director tells the lead actors that in their love scene, they need to try Strasberg's method of acting.

He came late - he overslept. He wanted to curse himself as he saw their creepy director talking into his costar Sansa's full breasts again, his hands stroking her arms which were crossed against her chest. Petyr had her against the wall, and he was whispering to her that she was too tense, that she needed to relax and that he could help. He could not see her lovely face but her body was slightly trembling.

Jon could not believe that others would turn a blind eye towards Petyr's sexual harassment of young beautiful starlets. Jon wanted to step in, but she said she could handle it. When he asked Sansa last night why she didn't speak out, Sansa shook her head. He was an Oscar winning director, and she was a relatively new actress with only two modestly successful ensemble movies. This was her first leading role. She further explained that when female actresses complain, even valid complaints, they are called difficult. It was a career kiss of death! 

Jon barged between them, protectively shielding her from their director with his body. 

"What's going on?" Jon asked loudly as the crew members were awkwardly trying to look away, not making eye contact with him.

"Ahhh, mister sleepy head has finally made his appearance," Petyr sneered.

He was late and did feel bad making the crew wait for him. Scratching his beard sheepishly, he mumbled his apologies to everyone.

Petyr waved his arms expansively at the stark room which only contained a large bed and had large floor to ceiling windows on two sides of the room.

"Well, the next scene is a sex scene. She will be naked, facing this window, and you will pound her hard from behind." The window had no curtains and faced a busy street.

"That is not in the script, not the one I have," he protested.

Petyr laughed and said that they were both too uptight, they needed to relax, they needed to get naked, and, well, fuck. He was joking of course - Sansa was frigid after all! He loudly exclaimed that he could not imagine any sexual chemistry between the two. She was so stiff - the scene would look like Jon fucking a mannequin. Jon was shocked silent at the vitriol and misogyny he just witnessed.

He was more shocked to see a tiny hand slapped the man soundly as she waved her phone which recorded his earlier filthier statements about her sucking him off and took a video of his last outburst.

"I am done here! And you are done too!" she shouted triumphantly.

Petyr screamed, "You will never work in Hollywood again, you red cunt!"

"Neither would you," she smiled as she began to upload the video to her Facebook page and made that page public to all. Petyr reached for her and made a grab for her phone.

"Stay away from her, you fucking asshole!" Jon shouted and pushed him back. Staring in shock at how Jon protectively held Sansa and how she naturally leaned into him, Petyr left in a huff.

Jon hugged her, and many people clapped at her bravery. They were too cowered to complain before as the movie business, from the actors down to the catering crew, was such a fickle business. It was harder to replace actors during filming but pretty much everyone else were fair game to be fired if the director didn't like the way you looked.

Her body was trembling in his arms, and he thought she was still in shock and traumatized. But when he held her face up, she was smiling and giggling. She was feeling such jubilation and such liberation!

He had to tease her. 

"So you think he heard us last night?" he whispered.

"You mean, you with the mannequin?" she smirked right back with a sparkle in her eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did not exactly fill my own prompt (shrugs). Maybe I will attempt again.


	31. The Gardener (Aemon the Dragonknight and his lady Sansa)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa and Aemon Targaryen, the Dragonknight.

He was tiring. Everything hurts - even breathing hurts as he was skewered through his lungs. He could not save her, his sister. Slash. Parry. Block. He must continue to fight until the reinforcements arrive to protect the Royal family, to protect Queen Naerys and their son. Loud footsteps were coming towards him - they finally arrived. Head finally down and relieved, he breathed his last breath.

'I am sorry, my love.'

When his eyes open again, he was in another time but the same place. It seemed that he was always too late - too late to save poor Queen Rhaella (who thought he was a ghost haunting her), Lyanna Stark (who did not believe that she needed to be saved), and Princesses Elia (who was so afraid and distrusting) and Rhaenys.

He worked as a gardener in Kingslanding - a seemingly fall from grace from the Dragonknight and Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. But he loved the flowers he nurtured, watching them delicately blossom, bloom so boldly and fade until they wither away. His hands, so used to killing, brought life and beauty. 

The other gardeners thought he was odd with his courtly mannerisms and his sweet serenading to the flowers who thrived under his care ("Does he think he is better than us? His shit smells no better than ours!"). But the master gardener (and the one before him) always stepped in to still the discontent, separating him from the other gardeners, and had him personally tend the Queen's garden.

The latest Queen had no love for beauty. She only desired power. He thought he was meant to save Queen Cersei but he soon realized that she created her own pain and the pain of others - her anger and vitriol poisoned those she truly loved until they were more monster than man. She could not be saved.

But the tragic Northern princess, Lady Sansa, should truly be the Queen. He saw her walking sadly through the gardens, and his heart sang to him 'She is the one, the promised one.' There was such grace in her - from her courteous words and her kind actions, even towards little Tommen, a member of the House trying to destroy her House. He could not understand how anyone could not help but love her, want to care for her and protect her. But she was cursed, like the others before her - her betrothed was a depraved monster, wanting to hurt her and make her cry. His heart ached for her.

Remembering her background, he started to sing Northern songs of bravery against all odds and the fierce stark beauty of the Northern lands. They drew her in, like honey to the bees, these reminders of her home. He heard the gentle rustling of her dress as the hem gently brushed against his well trimmed rose bushes.

Calming his racing heart and trying to not frighten her, he greeted her with a short bow.

"My lady, your beauty and grace honors me."

She automatically curtseyed, blushing awkwardly as she did not know who he was, did not understand why a tall, strong knight was dressed like a humble gardener. Her eyes widened as she saw his beautiful violet eyes and silver hair that he pulled back with a simple leather tie. Unlike the others, she seemed to recognize him or at least his resemblance to his famous family.

Sansa whispered, "Targaryen, you are from that House. Are you here to kill us all?" She knew her Houses, knew the horrors the Lannister and Baratheons have inflicted on his house. While she is the daughter and the sister of traitors, she was still betrothed to King Joffrey Baratheon, son of queen dowager Cersei of House Lannister. She shrunk back from him.

He could not help but reach out to her. Lady Sansa reminded him of his sweet sister but she had more steel in her spine and more awareness than his gentle sister. He softly touched her smooth cheek. It had been so many years since he last touched another or been touched by another. She instinctively leaned into his touch.

"Please, my lady," he whispered, "I would not harm you and want to protect you." 

He gently pulled her to a private alcove where the wisteria covered hedges were thick, forming an intimate hiding place. The flowers hung over her head like a crown she should be wearing. He showed her his sword he hid ("Dark Sister," she whispered in awe as she recognized the hilt) and kneeled in front of her, pledging his sword and his life for her, his Queen of Love and Beauty. 

He knew what he next did was wrong when he placed his gardener's cloak over her shoulders, making her his, and he could tell by the way her eyes glistened that she knew what his actions meant. She did not belong to that monster - she deserved all the happiness. In the alcove, he could be her knight, and she his gentle lady. Yet even in their safe place, he never touched or kissed her inappropriately. He kissed chastely her lovely hands, each delicate finger, her beautiful brows to smooth them, and her silky hair, how he adored her hair. Telling her silly stories of his youthful adventures with his sister, she giggled at his antics. But Sansa looked sadly at him when he truly remembered her, his sister, knowing how she died alone without her knight. 

In their secret alcove, time seemed to stand still. But she had to go back or they would be looking for her. It would be worst if they found her, discovering her with him. Growling, he could not let them have her. Covering her red hair with his cloak, he gently laid her on his wheel barrow on the soft straw that he covered her with, making sure she could breath easily. He wheeled her out along with his favorite flowers, the vibrant coral, pink and purple ruffled peonies. They left the gardens and seemed to clear the side gate.

The young guard stopped them and wanted to look into wheelbarrow that seemed to be much heavier than the straw and flowers it carried. Aemon waved a handful of manure in the man's face and explained it also carried this, which he tried to hide the horrible smell with the sweet hay and flowers. The man backed away, cursing at him, and let them proceed.

Years later, they would both regale their children about the Knight of Shit saving the Queen of Straw as he called them (although she would always gently correct him and say that he was the Gardener and she his flower).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this fairy tale for darks1st3r.
> 
> Inspired by a scene from the film A Little Chaos:
> 
> The setting: When Sabine De Barra (Kate Winslet) is formally introduced at the royal court, in front of all the Lords and Ladies, she presents King Louis XIV (Alan Rickman) with a single cut rose. She has already befriended a coupe of the gentlemen and all the Ladies of the court. After inspecting the rose, King Louis XIV smells it and then speaks.
> 
> King Louis XIV: A light honest scent, natural and unforced. Some other roses seem faded and overblown.
> 
> Sabine De Barra: That fate awaits all roses, Sire.
> 
> King Louis XIV: Continue, Madam.
> 
> Sabine De Barra: All roses are open to the elements your Majesty. They bud, bloom and fade…
> 
> King Louis XIV: Is that so Madam?
> 
> Sabine De Barra: The rose grows entirely unaware, changing naturally from one state to another and although the elements may treat her cruelly, she knows nothing of it and continues to her end without judgement on her beauty. Alas, tis not the same for us.
> 
> King Louis XIV: If such a rose could speak, what would she say?
> 
> Sabine De Barra: Yes, I am here and gave service under nature's eye, and after me, my children will be. Is there any greater contribution or more graceful end?
> 
> King Louis XIV: A wise rose. And what protection can the gardener afford this rose from the harsh elements of change?
> 
> Sabine De Barra: Patience, care, and a little warmth from the sun are our best hope your Majesty.
> 
> Sabine De Barra: I am obliged to you Madam, for that sweet reminder. Now walk with me and tell me of your progress in our garden.


	32. vita memoriae (Sweetrobin and Sansa)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sweetrobin/Sansa  
> They win the iron throne and their relationship evolves from mother/child, to friends, and finally to lovers. Your choice whether theirs is an "open" relationship at any or all stages of their relationship.

Ten years.

In some ways, it seems so fast, especially when she looks at their children, Jon so big and strong, Jeyne so sweet, and their youngest Jasper so bright and mischievous. 

In other ways, time seems so lugubriously slow. The Court filled with political intrigue and sycophants. Same false smiles. But now they were currying for her favor.

Their wedding night was so painful even now as she looked back. It was a night of tears, his and hers. He cried because she cried - he vowed to never make her cry, a vow he broke only a few times (she sometimes cried with joy as well as with frustration). She thought she would be ready as she knew her duty, the same duty as her mother, and her mother's mother before her. But it was Sweetrobin, just turned sixteen, the child she raised for ten years. It felt wrong! And the feeling worsened when he blew out the candle, so as to not see her tears. In complete darkness, his gentle hands on her body reminded her of his hands touching and groping her. She could not help but shudder thinking of him, the man she killed with her knife. After her Sweetrobin spent into her, he held her, trying to comfort her. But his arms around her felt like him pinning her down. Even Sweetrobin continuously whispering her name Sansa in an endless loop did not jar her out of her panic and dark thoughts.

That first year of marriage was difficult. He was traumatized by her tears that night, feeling that he should have stopped even though she tearfully exhorted him to continue. Her Sweetrobin thought he was a rapist, like his stepfather, forcing and hurting the woman he loved. He was so filled with shame and guilt. He witnessed Petyr hurting her, panting Cat into her ear. And he knew that he wasn't any better - he desired her, his wife, and because of that want, he hurt her as she wasn't ready (and she may never ever be ready). Only together when in public, he vanished as soon as their public royal duties, council meetings and petitions, were done. His door was bolted to her, and they did not eat privately together even though they were always together before. The guilt and shame ate at him, and he became listless and unfocused and distraught.

She tried to reach out to him but was firmly denied private audience with him. In desperation, she used the secret passages to gain access to his room and waited for him. That night they confessed everything, and she assured him that he was no monster, that he was the only man she trusted, that Petyr haunted her that night and most of her nights, that he was a good man and that when they are together, they would defeat him once and for all. Her Sweetrobin confessed his feelings for her - how he wanted her so badly for so long and how much he loved her, wanting to be worthy of her love. She already knew and knew that with time, she could come to love him, like the way her mother loved her father.

The first three years were years of rebuilding - not only their relationship but also the Kingdom devastated by greyscale epidemic that hit the South, the horrific death toll that took most of the North, including the life of Jon, her kin, who defeated the Night's King but succumbed to his many injuries, and mass destruction from seemingly endless battles and rebellions throughout the Kingdom with the only pocket of stability being the isolated Vale, with Eyrie now the capitol of the seven kingdoms (Sweetrobin did not want her to endure the memories of Kingslanding which was destroyed and razed by mad men and a mad woman). In the early years of their reign, they made so much progress, focusing on the basics - shelter, food and basic hygiene. Many of the keeps were left vacant after the War of the Wars as there were no monies for their upkeep, and these empty castles were converted into living accommodations for the many field workers and builders. In such tight living quarters, good hygiene practices were critical. Working with the maesters and farmers, Sweetrobin and Sansa initiated kingdom-wide programs of rotating crops (each temperate zone had different types of crops better suited to that raarea), built glass gardens to have produce year round, and developed, through hybrid pollination, improved seeds for better yield and for disease resistance.

But the brightest highlight for the Royal couple during those years was the birth of their son and heir, Jon, who was named after his father and also the hero that saved them all, in the beginning of the second year of their marriage. At first, Sweetrobin was jealous of their eldest, of the attention that Sansa showered on the sweet babe, so used to being the center of her attention and having her full teats to himself as she still humored him with this one obsession. But this slightest of distance made him finally realize that he cannot use her as a crutch, that he needed to be more independent, that she needed her space as after their epiphanies that night, they were almost inseparable, him not wanting her to leave his sight, never wanting to repeat those dark nights when he barred her from his life. Sansa, his queen, had to care for their babe, who was so helpless and needed her and, as he finally realized, needed him. When he held Jon for the first time, seeing her blue eyes, he felt such a connection with Sansa and vowed to always keep them, his family, safe - this vow he kept, to the regret of their enemies who he mercilessly threw out of the moon door.

The next three years were the years of innovation and design. During this time, Sweetrobin truly flourished as his strengths (and hers) well served the Kingdom. Many maesters and learned men were asked to lead houses of learning, centers of excellence, where the brightest children of all backgrounds (which later included their daughter and their youngest son many years later) were invited to study. In these houses of learning, new inventions, such as wind mills, cotton gin, reaper/binder, and weaving looms, were designed to lessen the human workload and to automate many processes. This greatly improved the lives of their people. But in their eyes, their best creation during this time was their beloved daughter, Jeyne, named after her best friend who was lost. Sweet Jeyne, known by all as Sweetie, was borne out of love - Sansa no longer endured her husband's touches but actually leaned into them, reveling in his soft kisses and gentle touches. Their girl was the apple of Sweetrobin's eyes - she could do no wrong by him. Knowing how his father so doted on his little princess, little Jon later had her ask their father for things he wanted. Sansa found it amusing that her father gifted her toy knights and wooden swords, not knowing that Jon was behind those requests. But she agreed with him that their children should learn to defend themselves even though Sweetrobin was still pretty hapless with his sword (although he was much better with the small war hammer that Sansa had made for him). She taught all their children how to wield carefully concealed knives, that this tiny weapon may be what could mean the difference between life and death. It was the knife still strapped to her thigh that made all the difference for him and her.

The last four years were years of prosperity and peace as the early uprisings were emphatically put down by the large and well armed and trained forces of the Vale as well as by the overall happiness of their people, the common folk who refused to join or support the uprisings as their lives dramatically improved under their reign. The few surviving lords were tasked to oversee the rebuilding and the lands but if they were incompetent, they were soon replaced by better stewards. She commissioned and greatly encouraged artisans to create works of art - literature, painting, sculptures, music/songs, intricate weavings that depicted the story of their kingdom from the dark days of endless night and sickness, to the time of innovation and invention, and the these happy years of peace. 

It was during these happy times they had their last child, Jasper, named after his grandfather. Jasper was so inquisitive and curious, just like she was when she was young, but he was also rambunctious, running amok, so like her little sister that it sometimes made Sansa tear up. He was laughingly called by all as the Spare without a Care. He made everyone laugh!

Now it was the eve of their tenth anniversary. She wanted to give him gifts that conveyed her growing love for him, her absolute trust in him, her respect for his brilliance for he was so smart and clever and her happiness with their beloved children (she never thought after she left Kingslanding that she would ever laugh and smile again and she had so many laughs and smiles and tears of mainly joy). She loved her Sweetrobin, his knobby knees and sharp elbows that she loved to pepper with kisses, his quirky grins and sarcastic inside jokes that made her smirk, his devotion and care for her and their babes. She loved his pouty lips which only pouted now in mock exasperation when she took "too long" to get ready for bed (his desire for her never diminished but instead steadily grew as he became more confident in her love and as she became more comfortable in his arms). 

She did not know if her Sweetrobin understood the significance of her gifts. Sansa herself couldn't fully articulate the meaning. When they married in the godswood in the Vale and during their wedding night, she "gave" herself to him (as she had no living relative but him), but she knew she held something back even after these ten years. It wasn't Petyr anymore that truly haunted her - luckily, they were both able to fully step outside his shadow, the man who destroyed the Sweetrobin's mum and almost destroyed Sansa. 

Smiling, she heard his steps behind her and felt his strong arms around her. Sniffing her hair, he smiled and kissed the top of her head. 

"My heart, the fairest lady in all of the seven kingdoms," he sighed.

She giggled, "You better not say that aloud in front of Jeyne."

"I named Sweetie the loveliest princess and the prettiest girl. And she truly is."

"But when she grows up and becomes a lady..."

"She will be the second fairest lady. My heart, you are so beautiful to me. All of our children agree that their mum is the most beautiful as it is true. I love you more today than yesterday, more tomorrow than today." 

He smiled fondly at his wife, the woman who knew everything about him, his strengths and many weaknesses (his fits of envy and piques which have lessen but only she is able to calm), yet loved him still. She made him a better man, more thoughtful and caring of others besides himself.

She smiled back and gently scoffed, "My sweet silly man, I love you." 

She kissed his jaws, his neck and his small part of his chest that peeked out of his tunic. She giggled as his hands started to grab his curvy body. He loved touching her, and she loved his loving touches.

Sweetrobin already gave her the greatest gift - no royal duties for the weekend, picnic and games with their children, and a private evenings together. He also gave her jewels which now adorned her bare body. The gold chains of rubies (seemingly a mockery of the Lannisters), the strands of sapphires (reminding her of her brave Brienne, her sword), and the strands of white opals and crystals (echoing the colors of the white tundra of her ancestral home) covered her while her red head was crowned with blue winter roses that were grown in their glass garden. Sansa was always his Queen of Love and Beauty. 

Sweetrobin was already moaning when he saw how the strands curved over her breasts, still perky and full as he had the wet nurses did the bulk of breastfeeding their children. Moving the strands to uncover her left pink nipple, she offered herself to him. Before he latched on, he looked up to her to make sure that is what she wanted. Nodding, she wanted to submit to him, her King. When he finished kissing, suckling and licking her breasts, she begun to slowly kneel to him, something she never did before with him. Surprised, he began to mimic her movements and slowly got down to his knees but she stopped him, holding him up with her hands clasped to his still narrow hips. She licked him, teased and blew on him, kissed him, and then sucked him hard, bringing him all the way in her mouth and throat as he moaned her name and shuddered. When he came, she sucked him dry. If she did not hold him, he would fallen, boneless to her ministrations.

"Sansa," he finally panted with such love and desire in his eyes. He loved her first gift!

She pulled him towards their bed which was covered by a white cloak, the Kingsguard cloak of Sandor. The cloak held the doll her father gave her and the knife that killed Petyr and that she always had close to her. They were her gifts to him. Sweetrobin knew of Sandor and the dark night he came to her during the Battle of Blackwater, knew that there was some connection between them, that she had feelings for the scarred man who was such a mighty warrior (that did make him a bit insecure as he would never be the warrior that the Hound was, nor the warrior like the men in her family but she told him that true strength came within). That doll was the only thing she had left of her family, the last gift her father gave her, but it was so much more than that. The doll represented all of her regrets and guilt and anger towards her family and mainly herself. And the dagger, it was something that the Hound left after he held it against her neck. In the early years at the Vale, she used it to cut herself, little nicks on her arms, after each perverse "lesson" with Petyr. Even now she sometimes lightly touched the blade, reminding herself that she was alive and all those who hurt her were long dead. She had it with her always and her Sweetrobin told her to keep it on her body, to use it to protect herself, from herself (when dark thoughts threaten to overwhelm her), from others (even himself if needed be). They were the physical reminders of that part of her that she tried to hide from him, trying to shield him from the darkness of her thoughts.

Sweetrobin's eyes widened. Knowing the history of and story behind these items, he knew that she finally and fully gave herself to him. They were in the last stage of her recovery, of her finally loving herself and finally forgiving herself. 

"My sweet, you saved me... You do not realize it but you did. When he saw you spying on us, he meant to kill you right there and then. I could not let that happen, you being such a small boy... If you didn't come that night, I would have still been trapped and would have cowardly watched as he slowly poisoned you to death... And even after, I would have succumbed to dark thoughts, but for you - you needed me, needed me to protect you, to care for you. I could not give up and had to live... And you were so patient with me, so loving and you gave me the greatest gift, your love and our children... My sweet, you are my home. I love you." 

After he listened to her words, he held her tight. 

Her King whispered into her hair, "And you saved me, not only my life but made me be a better man... gave me so much happiness and our sweet babes. I love you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by this quote from Cicero. From Wiki (including English translation):
> 
> "Historia vero testis temporum, lux veritatis, vita memoriae, magistra vitae, nuntia vetustatis, qua voce alia nisi oratoris immortalitati commendatur?
> 
> By what other voice, too, than that of the orator, is history, the witness of time, the light of truth, the life of memory, the directress of life, the herald of antiquity, committed to immortality?
> 
> Cicero, De Oratore, II, 36.[1][2]


	33. Red (Petyr and Sansa)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Petyr/Sansa, groping (NSFW - no consent LBR)  
> "hands on" lessons....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prequel to the prior chapter but can be read alone.

"Please, no... Stop please," Sansa protested as she tried to wriggle out of his clasp. His hands seemed to be everywhere.

"Shhhh... You need to stop moving... You will like it more if you relax, my sweet girl." 

Petyr then tried to kiss her as she backed away. She did not want any more lessons, lessons to please her future husband. She tried to push him off but it was futile. He was hurting her, holding her wrists tightly as his hot minty breath was on her lips, her jaw, her neck, the top of her breast as he kissed and suckled her. She flinched and cried gently. 

"You are hurting me..." she cried.

"If you were a good girl and didn't struggle so much, I wouldn't have to hold your wrists so tightly. You made me hurt you. Do you want Daddy to make it better?" Petyr asked.

She didn't want that or anything to do with him. Sansa regretted so much her decision to leave with him. He was not a friend, did not truly care for her. He kept on calling her Cat when he touched her, making her call him Daddy. She shuddered, refusing to answer him. 

Then they both heard a sound. It was Sweetrobin who snuck into her room and hid in the closet.

Petyr scowled darkly and made to move towards the little boy. He was going to kill Sweetrobin! She reached under her pillow to grab the dagger. Petyr grabbed the boy by the neck and began to strangle him. Rushing behind him, Sansa stabbed Petyr over and over again, crying uncontrollably. 

It was so red - everything was so red. Her hands, her dress, her face, the floor...


	34. Rimshot (Melisandre and Stannis)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Melisandre/Stannis, anal licking or rimming
> 
> See subject line (consensual please).

Distraught and agitated, he was pacing back and forth in his tent as the Red Witch waited for his decision.

Scowling, he asked, "Why?"

"The Lord of the Light demands a sacrifice. The greater the sacrifice and the greater the rewards He gifts to us," Melisandre purred. 

Stannis clearly remembered what he last sacrificed - his sense of honor, his breaking of his vows of marriage to his dying wife, his love for his youngest brother. Even now he could not say with absolute certainty if it was worth it, even knowing that countless lives saved. Renley was a greater fool than even Patchface; and he had to be stopped. But at such cost? He felt such shame remembering sinking into her warm moist tightness, feeling her clench so tightly as if she was milking him dry as he pounded her over and over.

His forces, the men who followed him, Davos, his most trusted man - they would all die here in this white waste land, hungry and cold. Each morn another twenty or so of his men were found dead, frozen in their tents. The kingdom was torn by uprisings and rebellions stoked by the cruelty and stupidity of Joffrey, the bastard offspring of the relationship of Cersei and her twin brother. 

But he could not do it. Shireen was the only bright spot in his sad life, he knew it to be true that she was what was truly good in his life. He would ask Davos to take her away, to save her. Another man, a better man than himself, must be the Prince that was Promised. 

In desperation, he asked, "Is there any other alternative?"

There was complete silence. 

He turned around and saw the Red Witch looking down, blushing red. It was the first time he saw her flustered - she always was so sure and absolute with her pronouncements of her Lord's words.

Stannis grabbed her shoulders and shook her hard. 

"Tell me," he grounded out.

She shook her head minutely but finally confessed, "There may be another way to gain the Lord's favor but it is not one you would ever entertain."

"Yet you think I would ever entertain burning my child, my own flesh and blood?" he yelled.

Her confidence returned and she unflinchingly stared back at his dark blue glaring eyes. 

"But you did, did you not?"

He raised his hand but stopped as she flinched and backed away. Looking at his hand disbelievingly as if it had betrayed him, he backed away from her sadly. She spoke the truth - Davos, a better man than he, would have not let her even broach the idea and yet he spent over twenty minutes mulling it over.

"Tell me," he begged.

He had nothing left - he must try to save the Kingdom, if he could not save himself. He was even willing to sacrifice himself to the flames, hoping that it would wash away all of his guilt and shame. Flames cleansed all.

She again looked down and whispered, "You would need to submit to the Lord of the Light, to his will."

He did not understand. But for this one thing, he had been submitting to the Lord's will. Did he not give everything that made him who he was?

At that moment, the Red Witch looked up at him and said in a deep voice that was not hers, "Nay, you did not truly submit to me, your Lord. Take off your clothes and get on your hands and knees for me. Submit to me!!!!"

Gulping, he knew that this was his only and last chance to save the Kingdom. It had to be him - he was willing, letting go of everything, letting go of being in control, fully submit himself to the Lord of the Light.

Quickly and efficiently, he removed all of his clothing and got on all fours. He waited as he heard heavy panting and the sound of her settling behind him. 

She bit his ass cheek hard as he muffled a cry. He felt her licking him, right above his hole as her hands pushed his cheeks back. He stiffened, anticipating her tongue lapping him, as she tantalizingly circled his hole with her tongue and her teeth nipping his firm ass, making him pant and shudder. Her tongue moved in and out, faster and faster, with her fingers pressing in and out. It was too much! This sensation of burning pain and pleasure! He grunted as she mercilessly plundered his ass with her tongue and her many fingers even after he came, until he came again and again. All he truly wanted was to be loved. It was the seventh time when he blacked out, whimpering "My Lord, please..."

When he awoke, he was in a soft bed with a warm body beside him. Her hair was red, but not dark red as Melisandre's hair. Her bare body that was partly uncovered by their blankets was pale and curvaceous, more so than the angular body of his Red Witch. Gently brushing her bright red silky strands from her face, he saw the sweet sleeping visage of Lady Sansa, Lord Commander's sister who was holed up with his Shireen in Castle Black. This lovely lady was such a beacon of light - he understood why the men would fight for her and want to protect her. He had wanted her.

What happened? Why was she in his bed? Where were they? He was no longer in his tent, sleeping on a pallet atop the frozen ground that was covered with furs. But instead, they were in a large richly appointed room, a room fit for a King and Queen. There was a large embroidered wall covering that showed him defeating the Others, his joyous marriage to his Queen, Sansa the Gentle, and their brood (sweet Shireen and her four red headed siblings) playing in a lush garden. 

Looking down at his wife (!), he noticed her slightly rounded stomach and instinctively kissed her stomach. She awoke and ran her fingers through the sparse hair on his head (alas, the Lord of Light did not grant him a full head of hair!). Looking up, he saw her loving eyes and the impish way they looked down on his bare body. He could not help but blush which made her giggle, the most lovely sounds he ever heard (he vowed to make her laugh and make her happy all of his living days and nights).

But then her eyes grew thoughtful as she touched his face. "Stannis, my love, are you well? You had a distressing dream last night. You were whimpering and grunting. I could not awaken you."

He tried to smile, an awkward smirk that ended in a lopsided grin. The smile felt so strange but yet so right when he was beside her, his arms embracing her warm and inviting body.

"Yes, my lady, for you are with me. If this, all of this, be a dream, I do not desire to ever wake up."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Head bowing in shame - I am not sure what happened here. Giggles... wish fulfillment by rimming... WTF?!?!?!?!? 
> 
> I want to say this won't happen again, but I cannot promise that (shrugs sheepishly).


	35. Sandor the Barbarian and Red Sansa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa x Sandor, Red Sonja/Conan the Barbarian (movie or comics)  
> muscle fetish - they like to get oiled up.

He was still sharpening his sword. Very soon, she imagined his broad sword - she could not help smirk at that, thinking of their nights together - would be whittled away. He had to stop doing this to himself, this self doubt, this guilt, this almost self hate. He was a hero to her but she never told him before - for if she did, this giant warrior would skitter away from her, leaving her bedroll cold and lonely.

His sweaty and scarred broad back was facing her. He was so strong physically. She knew every inch of his muscles and scars, etching them with her lips, kissing and licking them, clasping them as they both chased their release, faster and faster almost as fast as their hearts beating. Their couplings were often fast and hard but they also enjoyed slow and so deep - sometimes, it felt that when they took it slow, when there is no moon to shine upon them, she was overfilled, almost overflowing, as he whispered his foreign Cimmerian words in her red hair. Though she was a Hyrkanian and did not speak his native language, she understood what he was saying to her - he was giving her his heart.

No one would ever believe that the brute Sandor the Barbarian had such a tender heart. But she knew even though he tried to hide it. Like the way he tried to hide the burns that melted most of his face with his long black hair. He needed not hide from her - he was so beautiful to her.

Even after battle when men's blood runs high, he would never allow any man to rape or to kill the innocents, the children, the defenseless women or the elderly - his men knew better than to even grope a young woman in front of him as they knew that they would lose that hand! He would rage and bellow! He lost many men who thought it was their prize to take the young girls and sometimes boys. Some from his own blade and others who ran away in the dark of the night. Sandor did not mind as he preferred to ride alone before he met her.

Sansa knew it would be bad when she and he came upon a slavers caravan. The slaves were all young children, some as young as three or four. Looking at the leering men imprisoning them, she knew what the children were meant to be, toys to be used by sick wealthy men, the evil men that she and Sandor planned to destroy. Luckily many were untouched as the customers wanted virgins.

It was such a bloody rout, with many of the slavers being gutted by Sandor, bloody entrails and organs falling heavily to the sticky ground. He went berserk, brutally slashing every man that came upon him. The few that did not meet his broad sword met her twin blades that mercilessly cut them down. But a few surviving men held captive some of the young prisoners, holding their victims' young bodies in front of them with their dirty blades against their throats.

They were able to save one young girl but the other... She looked like Arya, her sister, dark hair and eyes. She struggled even though (or because) she and Sandor laid down their blades, seemingly surrendering to these men, nay, these animals. With her tiny throat slashed, Sandor roared and teared limb by limb the two men as the children cried and screamed. It was gruesome and she wanted to turn around but she couldn't. She had to stand witness for him - it was justice! These men deserved these deaths many times over.

Once it was over, she gathered the traumatized children, who were luckily relatively well fed and mostly unharmed and learned what villages they came from. Praise be the Seven Gods! They all came from nearby villages, a few days of hard riding for Sandor and his black mount, Stranger. The men stole them from the beds late at night, and it didn't seem like they killed their parents or the adults. Holding the youngest ones in her arms, she sung to them, the Northern songs of her people to calm them, as her love dejectedly walked away.

They could not save everyone. He should know that - that was the second hard lesson she learned. The first being is kill or be killed. And the third lesson was to trust no one but she refused to learn that lesson because she implicitly trusted him, more so than even herself, and would always follow him. He is what's good.

Sansa quickly got the children taken care of, assigning the older ones to care for the younger ones and moving their encampment further away from the carnage. There were plentiful food and gold that she had each child grab. What they could not hold in their tiny hands, she took, blood money well earned.

As the sky darken to dusk, she looked for him and found him by listening for the sad whinnies of Stranger. She hummed her favorite Northern song about the Giant so that he knew she was coming behind him. His hand stopped.

"The children are well," she softly spoke.

"Not all of them," he grunted and spat.

Holding his neck, she whispered to the back of his head, "You saved so many of them."

His broad shoulders trembled as he cried silently. She touched his surprisingly soft black hair and patted it, kissing his back, trying to comfort him.

Sandor grabbed her hand and yanked her to his lap.

Looking into her blue eyes with his wet eyes, he said, "Sansa, you were so good with them... You were meant to have beautiful blue eyed children... You were meant to be a mother. You should not have to kill - these hands should not touch a blade but instead a fine needle and a sweet babe. You are the Mother and Maiden."

He gazed at her and softly touched her face, as if his eyes and his strong fingers were memorizing her.

It was the most he said to her at one time. He was saying good bye to her. Her heart was broken but she would fight for their love! She was not called Red Sansa for nothing.

"I am also the Warrior. Where you go, I will follow. You are mine and I yours," she said.

Sandor stared hard at her, trying to find the lie in her eyes as he had found it before to her chagrin before. He saw through her niceties and courtesies, saying that she was acting like a fucking courtesan, chirping what she thought he wanted to hear. Sandor wanted to truly hear her, wanted to hear her honest opinion. Respect - he respected her when none had done so in such a long time. Just as what would have happened to those children, she was used and abused by so many men, men who she stupidly trusted, before she learned to defend herself and avenge her family.

She stared back, not blinking. She wanted him to truly see her, a woman who had fallen hard for him. She loved him. No longer hiding her emotions, she laid herself open to him, knowing that he would want to run away from her. But she must be brave - she was the Red Wolf!

Amazed at what he saw, the passion and the unconditional love in her eyes, he gently held her face, and he passionately kissed her until they both were breathless.

Panting heavily, he vowed, "I am yours now and forever."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So they did not get too oily in this scene but they will after (smirk).
> 
> This what happens when the kiddies go to bed (picture found in pininterest which stated that it is titled "Conan the Barbarian versus Red Sonja" and drawn by Gabriele Dell’Otto). This is what Sansa was referring to as his broad sword - serious knife play, eh?
> 
>  


	36. As if (Jon and the Snarklings)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon and any Stark, the Snark Family  
> Jon realizes he is adopted when even baby Rickon throws shade and seemingly sweet Sansa gives her patented eye rolls and "As ifs".

Jon did not know what was more humiliating - Ramsay verbally tearing him a new hole or seeing Sansa regally rise from her head table and glide to him and Ramsay who was leaning over him. He knew that everyone was watching - the jocks including Robb and his besties Theon and Smalljon, the techies including Bran and his lab and everywhere partner Jojen and the metal head/autoshop dudes/duddettes which included Arya and her arch-nemesis heavily tatted and scarred Sandor, Sansa's unlikely boyfriend. He saw each Stark slowly rising from their respective chair, with Bran reaching for his crutch.

" _Oh my god, Danny Devito! I love your work!_ " Sansa exclaimed loudly as everyone laughed and clapped.

Ramsay ran out of the cafeteria with his loser friends, muttering loudly "Bitch - you just want to suck me."

"That is not my name - it is Sansa, Queen B since you are nasty. And as if," she sassily shot back to more laughs and hooting.

Whispering as she got closer to Jon, she asked, "Jon, you OK?"

Jon nodded but he was not. Like Texas, no one messed with the Starks, not even with pretty and sweet Sansa who obviously did not need anyone to fight her battles, not Sandor nor Brienne, her glamazon friend. Each of his sibling were fierce and singular. They were going places. He was a loser, and everyone knew it. He knew that he was not a Stark.

Sansa shot a quick alarmed look at Robb who nodded. The school bell rang, and before she left to go to her next class, she squeezed his hand affectionately. She rushed to the open arms of Sandor who whispered something in her ear that made her blush.

Groaning, he knew that Robb would talk to him, guilting him until he spilled everything, his suspicions that he was not one of them.

Even though some say that rebel child Arya was like him, she was actually so accomplished - she surprisingly got good grades without trying while he struggled even with the patient one on one tutoring from Sansa with lit/history and Bran with sci/math. Arya could fix anything mechanical or build any contraption.

He hated his classes but wished they would never end. When the last bell rang, he briefly thought of ditching his brother who was waiting for him and smoke under the bleachers. But he could not - he did not want to see that look of sadness or pity from Robb, Sansa, Bran or Arya that night.

Walking slowly to the car, he tried to think of anything he could say. Blank - nothing. Bran would have thought of a thousand things.

When he climbed in, Robb's blue eyes just looked into his eyes.

"Fuck, I'm sorry... I didn't..." Gads, he was such a loser!

"Dude, I got you. We got you... I will tell Sansa to lay off the Red Sonja kick she is on - she and Sandor have been watching those cheesy Conan the Barbarian movies and sometimes she can be too much."

They both smiled wryly as they recalled Sansa's and Sandor's last matching Halloween costumes, complete with their bodies being oiled and lubed up, that made their Mum scream.

"It is just that I am not one of you guys. You guys are so fierce."

Jon remembered how he thought he saw them all bare their sharp teeth when Ramsay was intimidating him, growling menacingly. His eyes and ears were probably playing tricks on him.

"Jon, I think we all take after mum while you take after dad. We are a pack - not everyone can be alphas."

"But you guys are ..."

"Look, we each got our own thing. You do too."

"What's my thing?" Jon asked.

"You do the broody emo thing so well."

They both laughed. Fuck! Robb was probably right - he had his head in his ass again. He did look and act like Dad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pretty much I just wanted to use a Mean Girls quote (in italics) - thought it would be somewhat ironic in this scenario. I also added my silly take on a lyric from Janet Jackson's Nasty.
> 
> I think the setting is sorta like Teen Wolf as I was having some werewolf vibes.


	37. She Used to Be Mine (Jeyne Poole and Sansa)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Song inspiration for Sansa, Sara Bareillis' "She Used to Be Mine" - lovely performance in Tonys 2016 resonated with me.  
> "She's imperfect but she tries  
> She is good but she lies  
> She is hard on herself  
> She is broken and won't ask for help  
> She is messy but she's kind  
> She is lonely most of the time  
> She is all of this mixed up  
> And baked in a beautiful pie  
> She is gone but she used to be mine"

She lies - she lies all the time. When she says that she is fine. When she says she is not scared. When she says she does not need any help. When she says she doesn't have nightmares. Sansa knows because she did the same and sometimes she still does.

And just like Sansa, Jeyne finds some comfort in the company of Sandor, who is surprisingly more gentle with sweet Jeyne than he even was with her. He never betrays Jeyne's confidence. Sansa doesn't know exactly what happened to Jeyne and can only imagine what happened especially after overseeing the burial by fire of his victims and seeing how ashen Sandor was after his initial meetings with Jeyne. If a battle weary man who lived with a sadistic monster is disgusted by what he heard and saw, it must be truly horrific. She is not sure if she wants to know.

Closing her eyes, Sansa vows to always protect Jeyne, keep her safe, keep her away from the monsters - if she could only make the monsters in Jeyne's head go away. It was because of her that Jeyne suffered and lost all the members of her family.

Sandor tells her all the time that she is not at fault, not her, not Jeyne, never them. But he does the same, blaming himself for not saving his two girls as he calls them when he could, when he had the chance. He knew the Lannisters were horrible people that he and his monster of a brother served but he didn't truly know what would happen. If only...

Sansa doesn't blame Jeyne for getting quiet when Sansa enters her room, for looking away from her, for wanting to leave the room. She understands as she would probably act the same way if she were to meet my brother Robb now, feeling so betrayed and abandoned. It was so stupid that she believed in Petyr, thinking that he rescued Jeyne and that she was fine - that unfounded belief was what she hung onto, the little bit of light and hope she held onto, as every one of her family died including Jon who rose again, even during the dark moments in the Vale. And before Petyr died by her tiny hands, that arse mockingly told her everything he did - how he betrayed her father and mother, manipulated her aunt and what he had done to Jeyne, using her in his brothels and then passing her as Arya to the Boltons. Sansa finally understood what Sandor said to her before - killing was the sweetest thing. But it could not bring them back, her family, her childhood dreams and hopes...

They say it was Sansa wanting to take back her home from the Boltons that that was why she led the knights of the Vale and the riverlands to annihilate the Boltons and the Freys. But they were wrong - she could never truly go back home and knew she would have to return to the Vale. It was Sansa wanting to rescue Jeyne, like how she wished someone would have come rescue her when she was all alone and abused in Kingslanding. Sansa had to rescue herself, and ultimately she rescued Jeyne. Deftly using many of Petyr's manipulation skills and her natural diplomacy and negotiation skills, she was able to amass a strong force even though she had to marry again. But it was not to Lord Harrold Hardyng, as Petyr planned, it was to her cousin, Sweetrobin.

At first, she felt a bit jealous when she saw Jeyne with Sandor even though she cared for her new husband. But then she heard them laugh one day; and she knew that it was right, right and just, that the two she cared the most, with Sweetrobin following closely behind, the two most emotionally scarred, should find love with each other. She could not help Jeyne but he could. And each day she let that little bit of bitterness in her heart go little by little, with the only regret being the distance between Jeyne and her, the awkwardness as Jeyne also knew of her tender feelings for Sandor. It was also clear that Sansa was a reminder of the painful past that Jeyne wanted to forget. And that hurt Sansa, more than she showed. But of course, Sandor knew.

It was only when Sansa was alone, in the hot springs, could she cry, cry to the heart tree, tell the sad red face of the tree of everything she had done, all she regretted and what she planned to do. The winds would howl through the godswood and she swore she heard words comforting her and exhorting her onwards.

As Sansa bathe in the hot springs, she hears a snap of a twig. Turning around Sansa sees the tearful eyes of Jeyne, who sees all of her scars from the brutal beatings she endured and hears her tearful confessions of regret and guilt and shame. Jeyne rushes towards her and they hold each other. It is like when they were children again, little girls who loved each other with all their hearts! They both cry their apologies and kiss each.

With the hands clasp together, they vow to never be apart. Nothing would ever come between them. And nothing did.

It is true that they were no longer the same girls they were in Winterfell, but their love for each other endured and became even stronger after that day in the godswood. And sometimes they steal lemoncakes from the kitchen, giggling and whispering and gobbling them up in the bed they sometimes shared, as their husbands bemusedly watch them sneak around.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just love it when girls are friends.
> 
> I loved the performance of this song on the Tonys broadcast. I found it so moving and beautiful and thought immediately of Sansa and Jeyne Poole.
> 
> And I am a firm believer of hoes before bros (lol).
> 
> By way of background, only after she killed Petyr, Sandor found out that she was alive in the Vale.


	38. Ditto (Margaery and Robb)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robb/Margaery, The Notebook (movie)  
> Noah = Robb  
> Allie = Margaery  
> Summer fling or something more?

When he saw her and pretty rich friends in the soda shop, he knew she would be trouble, with her twinkling blue eyes, pert upturned nose and those lips sucking on that cherry that previously graced her sundae. The other guys with him watched her, laughing and elbowing each other. Wiping his sweaty hands on his dark blue jeans, he stood up and walked up to her as his boys hooted and whistled.

The blond little lady twisted her body so he got full view of her silhouette, her small pert breasts, rounded bottom and those long stems. She knew that she was smoking hot, like those pin up girls in those pictures that he hid under his pillow.

Robb was a confident man but this one, she made him nervous, made him feel like a boy. The smart thing would be just to enjoy the ride, knowing that he was probably just another notch on her belt, but he was not one to do what is expected. He saw her around before, by herself, and saw her sweetness as she helped Old Nan cross the street. Robb believed that the image she is presenting is just a facade, not her true self. He wanted to know that sweet girl, the one behind her sassy facade, and the only way to do that was to get rid of their audience, his boys and her giggling retinue.

He just held out his hand, and she grabbed it. Laughing, he pulled her out of the diner to his truck that was parked way back.

His late mama raised him right - he would never take a strange girl for a ride, not like his other friends. Looking at her laughing eyes, he introduced himself as he held her hand.

"I am Robb Stark."

Smiling coquettishly, she replied, "I know. My name is Margaery Tyrell. Pleased to meet you." She was a Tyrell, the second wealthiest family in the United States. Her family seemingly owned everything, except what the bloody Lannisters owned.

He held her hand to his lips, watching her tremble slightly. Cocking his eyebrow, he kissed it lightly as she giggled.

He sat on the hood, waving his hand at the space next to him. Luckily he just washed his truck. She scooted up as he helped her up, holding her tiny waist. They leaned back, their backs against the front window and looked at the beautiful sunset, the swirling warm reds, oranges and pinks. But to him, the most magical view was her, her eyes so big and her pouty mouth agape in wonder as the goldish red hues of the sun rays bathed over her, making her skin seems so velvety and tawny. He wanted to touch her, to see if she was as soft as she looked.

When the sun was no longer visible, he turned to his side and smiled at her.

"So how did you know who I am?" he asked.

"I asked the waitress who the cutest boy in the diner."

"And she said me?" Robb asked incredulously as he knew Randa was Theon's girl.

She giggled and said, "No, she said Theon, who winked at her. So then I asked her who is the red headed fool next to him."

He guffawed. It had been a long time since he truly laughed - life was tough after his parents died, leaving him, Jon and his sister Sansa to take care of their younger siblings, hellion Rickon and even brattier Arya, who he knew was hurting a lot. While Bran was a sweetheart, his pain medication was so expensive. Even with him and Jon dropping out of school and working two jobs and Sansa working in the weekends, they barely made ends meet. They had to sell most of their acreage and because they couldn't pay the utilities of their grand family home, they now lived in the carriage house with the girls bunking together and the boys doing the same.

She laid her hand on his chest, lightly touching the hair that peeked out of his shirt. When she looked at him with such heat, he felt like he was going to explode.

He lightly swatted her hand away.

"My pretty lady, don't start what you don't want to have finished. I might not be able to stop," he said hoarsely.

"Who says I want to stop?" she asked seductively as she proceeded to lick his chest.

He closed his eyes and moaned. She would be the death of him! Her tiny hand was snaking down his torso. He stopped its movement.

Sitting up, he said, "I am not like the other guys... No, I mean it. I want you but I want to know you first, more than just your name, and I want you to know me, more than just my name."

"Well, _I dig hot places, family meals and... um... long walks on the beach_ ," she replied as she playfully kissed him on his chest, his nose, and his jaw at every pause.

He couldn't help grinning as he replied, "Ditto." Robb kissed her fully on her lips when she playfully pushed back.

"Hey, that is no fair. You got to tell me something different... something about you that is different from me... What truly is your most favorite place?" Margaery protested.

"Let me drive you there and show you."

He slid down the hood from his tall truck, helped her down and opened the passenger side as she hopped in.

"We need to let your friends know where you are going or if you don't want to go, that's OK," Robb said as he planned to drop her off at the door of the diner, letting her go and walk out of his life.

There was this moment of silence - he felt this such dread and yet also anticipation.

"They are not my friends. Let's just go," Margaery said.

They both grinned as he drove them to his abandoned and dilapidated family manor, Old Winterfell, which had seen some rough times but he knew with a bit of money, a lot of love and elbow grease, it could shine once again!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't think I fully captured Noah and Allie as I made Margaery maybe too forward but I think I captured her impulsiveness.
> 
> There are so many inspirations. I went shopping at Trader Joe's and just love this label for Gold potatoes and quoted it in this fill.


	39. The Mark (Petyr/Sansa and Harrold and Sansa)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter/Sansa, marking  
> Narrowing his eyes when he sees her laughing with Harry, he knows she is his - she has the marks to prove it.

She was amazing last night - the perfect balance of innocence and pure sexuality. 

He shuddered, thinking of her sweet lips on him. Sometimes he lost track of time and his bearings as he remembered how she felt in his arms, so soft and so pliant and so eager to please. She was meant for loving, to give pleasure and to be pleasured, remembering how she trembled, with her tiny toes curled, as he ate her. When he gave her tiny love bites on the inside of her thighs, she moaned in a way he almost came. 

He closed his eyes, savoring the memories.

Harrold must die. He could not wait - the arse Harrold was too fucking slow! He was too foolish to not realize what a gift he had in front of him, such a beautiful goddess, the Maiden come to life. Most men would die for her, pledge their life to her, but the fool only wanted a quick tumble, using the same tired jokes on Sansa, who had to pretend to giggle, that he used on the scullery maid he pounded behind the stables. Bloody idiot!

Petyr did not need him - they can have everything now without him! They could get the Vale through Sweetrobin, who would not last anyways. Then it would be the North - the Knights of the Vale would liberate Winterfell and with the combined forces of the North and the Vale, they would storm Riverrun and take back her mother's house from the Lannisters. He almost giggled, thinking of how smug Tywin was when he looked down upon him in Kingslanding, mocking him and calling him a mere whoremonger! His Sansa and he would destroy them all, and House Lannister would be forever disgraced!

He watched his beautiful creation masterfully evade that arse's groping hands, yet further enticing him with promises of more. He could not help staring at her and was strangely pleased when she looked up and winked at him.

Tonight, the Hardyng exit plan would be executed - a brother and a sister, both commoners and bastards whom he paid off and can get rid of both easily. And then Sansa would be his!

Waiting is the worst. He had to send her away, so nothing could tie her to Harrold's demise. 

It should have been done by now but it was so quiet. The girl was paid to scream! And if she didn't scream loud enough, Lothor would make her and her brother really scream as he knew that it was important that the attack be known by all, that everyone sees that Harrold fucked one servant girl too many! 

But there was nary a sound. He probably had to handle it himself - perhaps Lothor too was dispensable. Really, all he needed was Sansa, more beautiful and more kind and more intelligent than Cat.

Grabbing his daggers, he snuck into Harrold's room and found Lothor dead on the floor and the Knights of the Vale surrounding him. But what astonished him was her presence, his Queen, with Sweetrobin by her right side and Harrold on the other side. The girl and her brother were behind them, both defiantly staring at him.

The Knights dragged him to the moon door.

The snotty brat screamed, "I want him to fly!!!!!"

The last thing he saw was his Sansa smiling. He saw the true joy in her eyes and finally realized that she played the game and won....


	40. Lovely Night (Sandor and Sansa)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is written for wz who asked:
> 
> "But I also love the idea of the first time of Sansa, when Sandor grew up in the North. I ask for more similar stories :)"
> 
> This is a continuation of chapter 14 but hopefully can be read without reading that chapter.

It was so lovely. 

The full moon atop her illuminating the frosted trees and the snowy ground glowing as she streaked through the wooded forest. She felt the crisp air through her fur - it was refreshing and invigorating as her pretty colorful ribbons streamed behind her. She felt so alive and free. And she heard the howls of her kin, but she refrained from joining in. The direwolves beckoned her to come back and return to them, but the forest was no longer her home, not where her heart belonged. 

Turning back, she joyfully bounded back home, jumping over downed trees. But as she got closer, the clean pine smell was replaced by the acrid funky smell that Jory and his friends emitted when they were scared and in panic. Something was wrong! Did someone get hurt? One of them must have gotten too drunk and must have fallen on the icy ground. 

The boys were taking Sandor, who looked so strong and imposing in his new tunic and cloak, out for his namesday - they were all happy and loudly laughing but they did not want her to follow them. Jory leaned down and told her that it was no place for Lady or her lady as the others laughed. Was the place dangerous? She should have gone with them, but instead she decided to chase after a rabbit.

Why were the boys running about? She bumped into Desmond and overhead a boy hoarsely whisper to him that Sandor was probably dead - no one could survive a night outside without any clothes. No, that could not be true - that boy must be lying as Sandor knew better than that!

But then Jory pulled her close to him and begged her to find Sandor, waving his new tunic in front of her nose. She didn't need to sniff it as she already knew his smell. She raced back into the woods as the boys chased after her, faster and faster she ran. She knew that every second counted - she had to get to Sandor before it was too late.

She found him in the Godswood, curled underneath a large bush. He was crying and shivering terribly. It was not too late! She excitably yapped. Reaching out to her, he softly called out, "Lady." She licked him and wrapped herself around him, nuzzling him and warming him with her body. He was furry but his fur did not cover his entire body and was not as soft as her fur that was brushed daily until it shone. But it mattered naught to her - she loved him so much.

When his friends finally arrived, Sandor was fast asleep with her in his arms. They wrapped him in furs and his beautiful cloak, another gift (along with the tunic) from her lady. It took all three of his friends to strugglingly carry him back to his pallet. She stayed with him throughout the night, guarding his sleep and trying to chase away his nightmares.

He talked in his sleep, moreso that when he was awake. He kept muttering pretty, pretty red hair but not a lady, not a girl but a woman. He liked the red woman's touches and touching her, liked feeling her large soft teats. He started whimpering and cried that red woman did not look at him - she thought he was a monster! She growled lowly, her blue eyes flashing in anger.

Sansa awoke with a most terrible disposition. She was irritated with the girls helping her with her dress, snapping at them for being too slow and for wrinkling her dress. When her sister pulled her hair as they broke their fast, Sansa screeched loudly and threatened to slap her so hard. Her mother reprimanded Sansa for her abhorrent table manners, and she uncharacteristically talked back, asking why she was scolded when Arya was the one who provoked her by pulling her hair. She yelled that they weren't being fair. With an angry huff, she ran to her room, slamming her door. 

When Sandor blearily came to escort her to her lessons with the maester and the septa, Sansa refused to open the door and shouted for him to leave her alone, that she wanted Jory! He left, knowing that she knew about the night before. Distraught, Sandor went to Jory, who swapped duties with him for the day. 

Jory could not believe what happened! When he arrived by Sansa's door, she was ready to leave and commanded him to take her to that whore, the one who made Sandor cry. There was such a hardness in her blue eyes and an edge to her normally soft voice that he felt compelled to obey. In that moment, she reminded him of a growling wild animal.

Now he stood awkwardly outside Ros' closed door, knowing the trouble he would be in for taking Sansa to a brothel. He overhead Sansa yelling at Ros, telling her that Sandor was kindest person she would ever meet, that she was the monster, not him, and that she was a horrible person for hurting his feelings. She cursed Ros, calling upon all the gods, old and new, to punish her. Suddenly it went quiet, and he heard only sniffling and a rough voice crying. Jory bursted in the small room, worried that Ros hurt his lady. Standing in the middle of the room was Sansa with her eyes all white and her body glowing and kneeling at her feet was Ros crying and begging for forgiveness. 

Gently closing Sansa's eyes, he carried her to Old Nan who would know what to do.

Her blood was up, and her lips curled back in a snarl. When Sandor finally awoke and Jory was there to tend to him, she immediately ran out to the woods. She was not fit to be among people as she wanted to bite, nay kill. She heard rustlings and saw a small group of deer bounding away once they saw her. She raced past the fawns, past the does and challenged the young stag who charged her, trying to protect his mate. He fought bravely, trying to pierce her with his horns, but she was too quick, biting hard on his neck and shaking him violently until his neck broke. 

She was howling after that satisfying kill, taking down a young healthy stag and tasting that hot metallic tasting blood. Then she heard nearby a snuffling and the broken voice of her Sandor. 

She found him crying again in the Godswood, on his hands and knees under the bush. She did not like to see him cry and tried to lick his tears away, licking equally his scarred side of his face and his burned side. Holding her in his arms, he whispered into her fur that her lady hated him, that he was sorry, that he did not mean to make her angry and disgusted in him. He was a bloody fool!

Jory looked down worriedly at Sansa who still did not stir even after Old Nan held her, anointed her forehead with fragrant oil, and sang to her the old Northern songs in the tongue of the First Men. Suddenly, her little body stiffened, and her blue eyes flew open. 

Sansa bolted out and ran, her white fur cloak matching the snowy tundra. Jory shouted for her to stop and chased after her, but she was so fast and it was snowing so hard that he could not see her, not even the flame of her hair which matched the color of the blood red leaves. It was as if she disappeared and melded into the woods. 

Panting and covering his face, Jory did not know what he was going to say to his lord, that he took the little lady to a brothel and that she just vanished into the woods. He already got a tongue lashing regarding last night, the ruckus they made in Wintertown.

When Sansa reached the godswood and saw Sandor underneath that bush, the bush that her father and Rodrick Cassell found him when he was just a toddler, she slowed down and stopped but Lady heard her approach and ran to her. Sandor got up slowly and awkwardly tried to bow, as Lady ran back to him, curling her tail around his legs.

"My little lady... I did not mean to take Lady from you... I am sorry about last night... I shouldn't have-"

Sansa ran and bounded into his arms, interrupting him in mid-sentence. Sansa was so tiny in his strong arms although she was tall for her age. Yet it felt like she belonged there, in his arms, her soft body molded perfectly against his hard body. 

And she looked at him, smiling her dazzling smile. She forgave him! He could not help but smile widely back, forgetting how that made his burns and scars stretch. Sandor always forgot himself when he was with her, his little lady. 

It seemed like that she did not see them, the horrific burns that covered half of face. Even from the onset, baby Sansa always reached out to him, gurgling and smiling whenever she saw him. Some of the men teased that the pretty blue eyed babe must be blind or have really poor vision; and he originally thought so too. But seeing her intricate embroidery work, truly works of art, he knew that she could see and appreciated beauty. She simply saw something in him that most didn't see. He wanted to be the man she saw - he wanted to be her knight, strong, brave and gentle, to be truly worthy of her - that was his deepest desire and wish.

Finally, she stepped back from him and held out her hand.

"Sandor, come and let us return home."

With his large calloused hand holding her tiny soft hand, they walked back with a lightness in their hearts, a bounce in their steps, and Lady happily running around them.

=======

When Sandor saw the royal family and that pretty blond prince greet his lord, his lady and their children, he grimaced. Jory already told him of the royal visit and the rumors surrounding such visit, that their lord would be appointed the new Hand of the King and that their lovely Northern princess would be betrothed to the heir to the throne. And he could tell the rumors were true from the interactions of Ned and the King, the way the fat King looked meaningfully at Ned and at his little lady.

Sandor noticed the sharp contrast between his little lady and the Queen. Sansa was truly gracious and kind, genuinely warm in her greetings and courteous to everyone. The Queen, although beautiful, was cold and rude, not bothering to mask her scorn and contempt of the North and the Northern ways. The Queen seemed threatened by his little lady, jealous of the high regard and love everyone in the North had for Sansa and the compliments the King gave her. Even though the blond princess seemed sweet, she also lacked the presence and the vitality that Sansa had, drawing everyone's attention to her, like a moth to a flame.

The bloody blond prince was staring at her. Prince Joffrey looked like the princes in the songs Sansa loved - blond and handsome. But Sandor could tell that he was a weak coward, hiding behind his brutish guards. And while the prince spoke honeyed words when he greeted her and even kissed her tiny hand with his wormy lips, his words and actions seemed false, like he was pretending, an actor in a mummers show. Sandor did not like how he spoke to Sansa, talking down to her as he told her that his mother would give her much prettier dresses than the one she wore, the one she made, and as he told her about Kingslanding which he implied was superior in every way to Winterfell. Arya would have yelled at and punched Joffrey but Sansa smiled, albeit stiffly, saying that she would miss her home too if she were far away from it. She gracefully withdrew from the prince and the Royal family.

Sandor followed her outside - there were too many strange southern men milling about. And Jory was with him - he did not want to ever besmirch her honor.

"My little lady, your dress is so l-lovely," he rumbled. 

Jory nodded and agreed, "You are a vision of beauty, our Northern rose."

She turned and smiled at them both, the smile reaching her sparkling eyes. 

"And you two look especially smart - truly representing the might of our House, the power of the North."

Both men puffed their chests in pride, knowing how many of the southerners seemed dwarfed by the tall and equally broad Northerners, even Ser Jaime seemed like a young boy when he stood next to Sandor. As they both grinned at her, small snow flakes slowly fell around them. They all paused to enjoy the quietness and beauty of the North, knowing that this light dusting could easily turn into a blizzard.

"Aye, winter is coming. We needs to get inside and ready for the feast, my lady," Jory said and offered her his arm as Sandor laughingly took her other arm. They walked in together, and Sandor saw the glare the blond prince gave him and Jory as if to warn them away from Sansa. 

As he was about to growl, he felt her tiny hand on his arm squeeze. Looking down at her, he saw her subtly shaking her head - he had to behave courteously to their guests as he, as a member of the household, represented House Stark. He decided to smile at the prince, watching the prick step back and the Southern ladies gasp in horror. He knew that there was naught she could say as she never spoke of his scars; and he did feel a twinge of guilt for disappointing her although it was offset by his feeling of glee that he knew smiling Jory felt too.

When Sansa was escorted by the prince to the feast, it took everything in him to not race over and tear the boy limb by limb. Prince Joffrey's body was pressed tightly against his little lady, with his arm seemingly brushing the side of her bosom. Sandor saw how stiff her body was as she tried to distance herself from him without flinching or making a scene. Luckily, Jory was immediately there and quickly extricated Sansa from Joffrey's arm and gently guided her and her friend Jeyne to a high table furthest from the Southerners, a table close to Sandor's table.

Sansa quickly recovered and was laughing gaily with Jeyne as Jeyne was staring appreciatively at Ser Jaime Lannister, the Queen's brother and lord commander of the Kingsguard and reputedly the best swordsman of all of Westeros. He itched to spar against the glib man, to knock that mocking grin from his face and, if he were truly honest with himself, to earn a gasp of adoration from his little lady.

He also saw the louts from the South, laughing at the uncouth North and yet they were the ones openly leering and pawing at the servers. Sandor looked around at the grizzly Northerners who enjoyed the feast, hardened, hearty and honest people that he felt proud to be among unlike the frivolity and fakeness of the Southerners. Looking up, he saw his lord laugh with the King, a former shell of himself. Although he thought it shame that the King had regressed to a crude, fat drunk, Sandor could understand how the King would be crushed to lose the love of his life, a beautiful Northern princess. It would destroy him to see Sansa wedded to that blond prince, who was so undeserving of her love and attention. Jory knew, replacing his mugs of ale with cool water. 

Jory was right, like he always was, Sandor needed to stand alert and protect her as the direwolves were chained up. Many would scoff at the idea of affectionate and sweet Lady, known for chasing butterflies, as a protector, but he knew how truly fierce she was. Only once did he accidentally see Lady take down a large animal - she did not go for the weak, the young or old but the males in their prime, and simply overpowered them. Sandor knew that his lady would be safe when she was with Lady, as her siblings were too when they were with their direwolves.

At the corner of his eyes, he saw Arya grab her spoon and was about the throw food at her sister, he intercepted and blocked it with his body, dirtying his new tunic. But it was worth it, seeing Sansa's gentle smile. He melted until he saw Jory pretending to bat his lashes and holding his napkin in his hand, gushing about how Sandor being his knight of gravy and potatoes. Bloody arse! Taking Jory's napkin, he wetted it with water, cleaned himself and threw the dirty rag right back at him. With his shirt plastered on his skin, he continued to eat, not realizing the serving girls looking appreciatively at his strong chest. 

"Sandor," Mallory cooed. He looked up, with his nose almost buried in her deep cleavage, and quickly tried to back away. Feeling Sansa's icy stare behind him, he tried to get up and walk away but the server's hands held him tight. He was shit with women - he did not like games! But luckily, Jory was there and grabbed Mallory from behind and placing her in his lap. They passionately kissed to the cheers of his friends, and when she got up, Jory playfully swatted her round ass. Jory smiled at him, and he amended his less than charitable thoughts of his best friend.

Sandor thought she would be angry with him, remembering how her mother held onto grudges, but he was wrong. Sansa graced him with three dances, with the last being his favorite, watching Joffrey walk towards her and watching her instead walking towards him, into his arms where she belonged. 

Later in his room that he shared with Jory who left to dally with Mallory, he could not help but smile and giggle. It was, what was the word Sansa oft used, yes, it was a truly lovely evening. Sansa looked so beautiful in the dress she made, the dark dress fit her perfectly, showing off her fine figure and emphasizing the creaminess of her glowing pale skin. And she danced with him - the first when Jory laughingly pushed him towards her, the second when he finally screwed up the courage to ask her and the last when she chose him for the last dance. He could still smell the delicate floral scent of her lustrous hair, feel the softness of her hands and hear her breathy giggles as he twirled her faster and faster. And the way she smiled at him at the end, with her cheeks flushed. He wished that the night would never end.

He heard faint knocks on his door. It wasn't Jory who would have just bursted in. Getting up and not bothering to put on his shirt, he got up and opened the door. It was Sansa, who was crying and shaking visibly. He immediately embraced her and pulled her into his small spartan room, closing the door. He checked her quickly for injury, lightly touching her head for bruises and blood. 

"Sandor, stop, please fussing. I am not hurt. Mother told me that I am betrothed to the prince!" Sansa cried as she buried her face on his chest.

He closed his eyes, as what he had feared had come true. Sandor always knew that he was never for her, him an orphan taken in by Jory's family. They could never be. She was meant for greatness - she would be a great queen, beloved by her people.

"He is a prince, and you will be a queen one day, just like the songs," he rumbled. 

"But he is horrid, a bloody arse!" she cried.

Although he was horrified that she picked up his piss poor language, he could not help but find it adorable that his proper lady cursed.

"He does not know any better with a mother like the Queen and a father like the King. But you can help him be a better man and a good king," he reluctantly said, stroking her hair gently.

"He is a monster! He is cruel and stupid and I hate him, even Lady hates him too!" Sansa said as she looked up, looking into his eyes with her hand on his bare chest. "Help me! If we were to run away and wed..."

He wanted so badly to take her, to make all of his dreams come true, but he could not do this to his lord, her father, or to the Cassells, his family who took him in and raised him as their own. It was not honorable to steal her away and to tarnish her reputation and dishonor the Starks and the Cassells. He did not want to start a war, like the war that was started when Prince Rhaegar stole Lyanna, Sansa's wild aunt. But yet he knew she spoke truly - the prince was not right, cruel for the sake of cruelty, laughing when they had to put down a poor horse that broke his leg. It was frankly ironic that the handsome prince was the ugly monster! That boy would hurt her, and he could not allow that to happen. He needed to talk with Jory but Jory was probably buried to the hilt in Mallory or another serving girl.

"Sansa, do you trust me? I will always protect you and Lady. You will be safe. Now get you to bed," he rumbled. He did not know what they would do but knew that he must speak with Ned. 

And he knew where he would be, in the crypts by his late sister's statue. When Ned needed to get away from the responsibilities and burdens of being a warden, he would oft come here. Sandor knew as he hid in the crypts when he was much younger, trying to escape from the bullies that mocked his scars. They were both hiding. But he did not want to hide anymore.

"Ned," he started breaking the silence as he knew Ned knew he was there. Ned always knew, remembering his look of disappointment after the Ros incident.

With his back facing Sandor, Ned coldly corrected him, "I am your lord. You live in my house because I allow it. And yet you seek to take my daughter from me. I saw her sneaking into your room. Have you dishonored her and yourself?"

"My lord, I would never hurt or dishonor your daughter - I respect her and you too much. But the prince is cruel - he would hurt her for the sake of hurting her. You know this to be true - he got the worst parts of his parents, cruel like his mother and quick to anger like his father. We must protect her and save her," he begged.

Ned turned and nodded sadly. His friend, Robert, was disappointedly not the man he knew, a weak king, but his heir was significantly worse and would make a terrible king. 

He thought of Lyanna and Rhaegar and Robert, the horrific tragedy, and he looked into Sandor's eyes. Ned knew that Sandor could be trusted with his daughter - he knew all these years of Sandor's infatuation with Sansa but Sandor never acted inappropriately and always treated her with utmost respect. With wise and savvy Jon Arryn dead and no longer there to advise Robert, Ned knew that the kingdom would fall into chaos even if he were appointed the Hand. He knew naught of politics or running a kingdom but he felt that his friend was in a weakened position, that he had many enemies, including his Queen's family, who looked vultures, and very few true allies. He could not subject his daughter to that dangerous world.

Ned knew what he had to do. He needed to save his family, protect his daughter and keep his promise to his sister.

"You are truly worthy of her. I know that you will protect her and cherish her. Take her, Jon and their direwolves to the Greywater Watch. Hand this package only to Lord Howland Reed - he will protect you all and hide you from plain sight."

Surprised, Sandor nodded and left to gather supplies while Ned gathered Jon and Sansa and their direwolves. He spoke quietly to each of them as they looked at him stoically with Lady and Ghost by their side. They knew that they may never see their father or their home again. Jon looked angry, but nodded when Ned told him to stay close to Sansa, to protect her. Ned gave Sansa a rare hug, looking like he was worried that she would break in his arms. But Sandor knew that she was not a delicate flower but a fierce wolf like all of the Starks, recalling ruefully Jory telling him about Sansa in the brothel. Lady looked alert and regal as the smaller Ghost walked slowly behind her, lowering his head.

Clasping his shoulder, Ned just nodded at Sandor as he handed his eldest daughter to him, allowing Sandor to cover her with his fur cloak, the one she made for him years ago. He helped her on her gentle gaited but fast mare, and he got on his black warhorse as Jon finished saddling his horse.

"Ride hard and don't look back."

It was like a dream, their flight. It seemed like the woods covered them from view and that their tracks magically disappeared when he looked behind them. His Sansa was like a vision - her pale skin was glowing so brightly, brighter than the full moon and the glittering stars above. And when he looked at Jon, the broody boy he grew up with, he thought he saw smoke and small flames coming out of his mouth and that his long fingers were talons. He must be so tired that he was dreaming as his little lady seemed to be leading them although she hated riding and had poor sense of direction.

They stopped in a clearing to rest their horses. It did not seem like a safe place to spend the night but she looked so tired and spent. Jon grounded out that he and the direwolves would take the night's watch.

As he laid down their bed rolls that he placed three feet apart, he heard her giggle.

"Is that for Jon?" she asked with a grin on her pretty face. He wanted to kiss her but her half brother was about.

Sandor was shocked when she gently pulled him down and kissed him on his lips. He could not help but kiss her back slowly, groaning loudly as her tiny hands held him. He shuddered and tried to step back.

"Your brother..."

"Jon is far away - I told him that this was to be our wedding night. If we die tonight, I want you to be my husband for true."

His only time was with Ros, and that was a blurry and humiliating haze. From Jory, he knew that the lady needed to be prepared and that the preparation could be pleasurable for both. Jory told him what to do with his hands and his mouth but he could not think of trying any of that on his lady, who looked so lovely and so pure. He did not want to taint her or hurt her. His hands were not gentle like hers - he only knew killing, killing the bad men that pillaged the Northern villages. In the common bathing room, he knew his cock was bigger than most if not all of the men and boys. She was so tiny - he was worried that he would tear her apart.

He froze as she slowly melted away his fears with her gentle touches. Even after many years, he did not remember how they were both naked on his bed roll with his furs atop them and his hands mapping her curves, her sweet shoulders, her tiny waist and her pert bottom as she kissed him and lightly stroked the fur on his chest. She grabbed his hand and together they touched her warm folds between her legs and she touched his hardness, as they both moaned until they both shuddered in delight. 

In the distance, they heard the wolves begin to howl loudly. It was time - he perched over and with her nod of assent, slowly sank into her. His body was aflame - she was so hot, wet and tight. He fit perfectly in her! But he waited until her look of discomfort eased and she kissed him and grabbed him. They went as slowly as he could with her hips moving upwards to meet his, as he grunted and she moaned with every thrust. It was over quickly, over before he felt like it truly began, but the feelings of completeness and joy and love lasted throughout the night with her lovely body intertwined with his. She was his, and he was hers.

When he woke up to a messy kiss from Lady and a glare from her brother, he covered his lady with the furs and quickly padded over to get his clothes.

Her brother disgustedly said and shuddered, "We are in hiding and yet you were loudly shouting my sister's name. Idiot!"

He was an idiot but he was her idiot. He smiled ruefully and apologetically. They were lucky that the woods magically protected and hid them.

"It is a pretty name," Sandor said as he cuffed Jon on the back of his head and as he watched Sansa blush so prettily. 

He was right - it was a truly lovely night, better than his dreams and fantasies, as it was his wedding night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never wrote about Lady before or warging. I was hoping for a Ladyhawke fantasy feeling and romance - not truly sure if I achieved it.
> 
> This was my second attempt as I accidentally deleted my first draft which was probably better than this one.
> 
> I was much inspired by truly great stories written by SimplyLucia and SnowWhiteKnight and so many others. I am a dabbler in drabbles, writing stories that usually make me smile. Hopefully, this fantasy will make you smile in this crazy world.


	41. Bring it (Sansargaery - lol)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Margaery and Sansa, Bring it On  
> Torrance = Sansa  
> Missy = Margaery  
> I would love it if it turns out to be love story between the two (with a lot of hot sex) but gal pal friendship is awesome too!

Bawling her eyes while watching Steel Magnolias and digging into a tub of McConnell's Eureka Lemon & Marionberries with her bestie Margaery by her side, Sansa realized that she was a walking talking cliche. But frankly, she did not care!

Her life, all sixteen years, has truly ended! Trying to surprise Joffrey with a cake she made for his birthday, she walked into him fucking another girl. Instead of apologizing, he yelled at her, blaming her chastity vows and her frigidity for him having to cheat on her.

Joffrey was her world - he was the one who got her into cheerleading, the one who helped her with her cheers and her flexibility, the one who groomed her for the top cheer spot - cheer captain. He made her and now she felt so empty and hurt and confused and alone. She could not help but sob even though the sob fest movie was long over.

Margaery pulled her onto her lap, her long legs straddling her.

"He's an ass, yea?" Margaery asked.

"Yea, he is an ass... but he is my ass," Sansa sobbed as she buried her face into her friend's chest.

Margaery lightly patted Sansa's tush and teased, "I am sure this is not Joffrey I am patting. This seems perky and Joffrey is jerky - not the same. Ugh-ugh."

Snorting softly, Sansa asked, "Was that you trying to rhyme? I told you that you should help us write the cheers."

Margaery lifted her face, her eyes and nose red and lips pouty.

"You know, it was for the best - he was the truly the worst. He's always staring at girls' chests and should be treating you as first... Seven hells, this is so hard! No more rhymes - he just sucks! Um, what rhymes with sucks?" Margaery asked as Sansa started to giggle. She made her sweetie Sansa smile!

"But maybe he is right - I am frigid. I don't like his touches," Sansa whispered sadly.

"Maybe he doesn't know how to touch you, doesn't know how to pleasure you. What kind of touches do you like?" asked Margaery.

"I dunno - soft maybe, not so rough and not so grabby. He pinched me hard - he hurts me. I don't like that."

"You don't know what you like? Have you ever have an orgasm?"

Sansa blushed bright red, sheepishly shaking her head.

"Well, that is more on Joffrey, not you." Margaery patted her arm reassuringly. "Um... do you want me to teach you, sweetie?"

Margaery did not want to scare her sweetie - to be too forward with the sweet girl she seriously crushed on. She saw her best friend's innocent blue eyes widened in surprise.

"Do you trust me?" she asked.

The answer was always FUCK YES! Although tiny, Margaery served as the base of their pyramids as she was compactly muscular and solid. She was the one who lifted and threw Sansa and the one who always caught her. Sansa felt always safe in her arms, protected from the glares and put downs from the mean girls. She could always confide in Margaery, secure in knowing that her bestie would not put her down or mock her in front of their "friends."

Sansa shimmied off her boy shorts as Margaery looked her straight in the eyes. Sansa bravely held her friend's hand and moved it down; and Margaery looked down at her hand and was surprised to see that Sansa was completely smooth and hairless.

"Um, Joffrey laughed and called me fire bush, said it looked yucky and dirty," Sansa explained.

"You know everyone loves your beautiful auburn locks on your head, why would your hair down there be called yucky?"

"It was a bit curly..."

"I like curls!" Margaery cheekily swung her curly locks about. Margaery removed her boy shorts to show the tiny neatly trimmed triangle between her legs. "I think curly looks cute!"

Sansa giggled and agreed.

"I will show you what I like, and you can try the same things or try something differently." It was best that Sansa knew her own body, knew how to make herself happy.

Removing her hand from Sansa's hold, she leisurely and luxuriantly pleasured herself; and she watched with hooded eyes Sansa staring at her fingers with a sweet grin on her face. Margaery knew that it was wrong but she imagined they were Sansa's fingers in her, stretching and filling her. She came hard and was so close to screaming Sansa's name.

Shuddering and feeling boneless, she hoarsely said, "Sweetie, it is your turn. There is really no wrong - explore, light or harder, slow or fast. The only rule is if it hurts, stop. It suppose to feel good, real good."

Margaery could not look down as she would want to join in so she looked at Sansa's tense face. Sansa looked so intense and frankly frustrated.

She cupped her face and said, "Sweetie, relax. What is going on?"

Sansa sighed and wailed, "I just don't know what to do - I am doing it wrong... Joffrey is right - I am frigid."

"It is not a race... Let me help you get started. Does this feel nice? Yea? You like it with more pressure, slower, yea? One finger, two or even three because your fingers are thinner than mine? It is up to you. See how your body is relaxing, you like this. Now you try it."

Sansa was moaning, chasing her pleasure. Her face was flushed, and tiny beads of perspiration dotted on her tiny nose.

"You are so beautiful right now, sweetie. Perfect... That is it, go, go, GO!!!!" Margaery cheered her on.

Panting, Sansa laid back and smiled widely. She giggled, "You cheered for me!"

"Always and forever!" Margaery vowed as they laid slightly dewy side by side. They would always and forever be by each other's side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't sure where this would go - still not quite sure.
> 
> I was planning to add a part with Sansa explaining that she was happy when she made others happy but it didn't flow or seem to go with the rest. I think there are a lot of people whose identity is so connected with someone else, that they forget themselves.


	42. Proudwing? (Stannis, Sam et al)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Jon, wingmen  
> At a bar, shennigans ensue.

"I just want to be loved."

Covering his face with his hands, he could not believed he uttered those words. There were so many things he could not believe happened during this longest day of his life.

He got arrested for finally losing it at the morning staff meeting with his brother. It was difficult right now to pinpoint the tipping point. Was it Robert's joke about the only action he got was with his hand? Or was it his comment about finding a male blow up doll in Stannis' car (it was not a sex toy but a HOV mannequin)? Or was it his horrific Trump impersonations? All he knew that is that one moment, he was grabbing his coffee mug tightly and the next he was strangling his brother with Davos and Renley separating the two.

Then Robert agreed to drop charges only if they both do group counseling for angry people who lost their parents. Robert said he wanted to mend their relationship but he thought Robert was trying to torture him. Stannis was actually tempted to forego counseling and elect to be arrested and so that he could spend time away from his ass of a brother until Robert whispered loudly, "Butt hurt."

Stannis did not know what to expect about group counseling. He hoped he would not have to touch anyone - he had a minor germ phobia, especially when it came to Robert who he always caught picking his nose and scratching his balls.

Dr. Pylos seemed capable and well meaning, and his assistant, Sam Tarley, seemed kind and a bit bumbling, often spilling something on himself or dropping something. The group was luckily small, but unfortunately comprised of people he knew or met before - Robert, of course; Jaime, their former brother in law; Jon Snow, an acquaintance; and himself. He did not envy Pylos or Sam as Robert and Jaime took turns baiting each other, frustrating both him and Jon. It came to head so to speak when Robert and Jaime pulled down their pants to determine how was the biggest in terms of girth and length! As Sam jumped between the two, Stannis got up to leave and was stopped by Pylos, who quietly asked him what did he truly want.

He did not know why he gave that answer. He normally gave an answer that others expected - a scowling and scathing complaint of one thing or another. Perhaps, no one truly wanted to know what he thought or cared but somehow he knew that both Pylos and Sam cared about him, even though they just met him.

As soon as his words came out of his mouth, he wanted a take them back, simply rewind the day and reboot again. But instead, all the men nodded and agreed that they wanted that too. Quiet brooding Jon offered that he just wanted to be accepted. As each man confessed their deepest desire, Pylos' eyes lit up as he took notes and facilitated the discussion. Stannis was somewhat surprised that both Jaime and Robert were so alike, both seemingly damaged by their respective toxic relationship with Cersei, who made each feel inferior and emasculated. The session got emotional, making him feel awkward and uncomfortable as he watched his brother ugly cry as Sam hugged him, patting his back.

Pylos suggested that they all needed to unwind. Somehow they all squeezed into Pylos' compact car and drove to an intimate bar. This was where they formed two groups - Jaime and Robert were with Pylos, and he and Jon were with Sam. As Sam and Jon were flagging down a red headed bartender at the end of the long bar, Stannis watched the other group, seeing Pylos nod at a particularly buxom woman at the other end of the bar and whispered something in Robert's ear and Robert immediately grinning and almost strutting towards the lady who was openly ogling him. Then Jaime, with a pat on his shoulder from Pylos, steered himself towards a group of tall blond women who were playing pool (they looked like German women's basketball team) and was laughing and flirting with them, especially the tallest and strongest woman who actually towered over him. He turned back to see the woman perched on his brother's lap as they both were whispering and teasing each other with little nibbles and kisses.

Stannis shook his head, thinking that those two Lotharios were reverting back to their notorious skirt chasing ways. Stannis did not understand why Pylos seemed to be encouraging such behavior. True love could not be found in a bar!

Feeling Sam's hand grabbing his arm, he turned back to the counter and saw the most beautiful goddess. Dumbfounded, he watched Jon and the goddess debating the merits of the various beers on tap, just staring at her red full lips as they moved. Did she just say that she preferred the rich creamy head of a stout? He shook his head - he had met beautiful women before and knew that _'all that glisters is not gold_ '. But before he could clear his head, Sam pulled him closer to the counter, making him lose his balance (he swore he felt a hand on his back pushing him) so that he almost fell face first into the lovely bartender who threw her arms out and held him.

She smiled and laughed, "Perhaps, I need to cut you off right now. Um. I am Sansa."

He righted himself up with her help as his knees almost buckled.

"I don't drink," he blurted and blushed again at the inane words coming out of his mouth.

"But you look thirsty," she smirked.

And he was thirsty, overheated and parched, and she looked like a tall glass of water that he wanted to drink slowly from. He blinked - he should not be objectifying this lovely lady who probably spent all of her life deflecting such base attentions. Seven hells, he has turned into his brother!

Sam interjected that Stannis, wildly gesturing at him, may be interested in looking at the menu for non-alcoholic beverages.

Sam prattled, "Obviously, Stannis drinks because all humans needed to drink in order to stay alive - in fact, you could die after one day if you didn't drink."

"Unless that particular day is extremely hot or cold and you are not physically well, most relatively fit persons could survive without water for three to five days."

He wanted to face palm himself as his brother was right that no one, especially someone as lovely as Sansa, would want to hear his endless litany of trivia.

"Oh? Do you camp a lot? I never went camping before - I want to but want to go with someone who really knows about camping," she said, leaning towards him.

Jon was about to say something but yelped in pain.

"Sorry," Sam said, "Did not mean to stomp on your feet."

Jon grumbled and stomped away. Stannis looked at the departing back of Jon, wondering if he did something wrong, trying to chat with Sansa when Jon spoke to her first.

"Um, your order?" she asked.

"Just tonic water with lemon."

"Don't mind Jon. He is moody and broody. Is that even a word?" she laughingly asked.

"Yes, it is - often referring to an inclination to incubate eggs or in this case, meaning unhappy and contemplative."

Stannis saw her eyes widened and cursed himself - she probably thinks he is boring and watches the History channel (which he actually does as well as read tons of nonfiction books).

"Er - do you know Jon?" he asked.

"He is like a brother to me - he is a cousin who lived with my family ever since he was a baby."

He smiled, and she smiled right back before she turned to make his drink.

As he bent down to grab a new bottle of tonic water, he could not help but look at her round bottom appreciatively and absently grabbed Jon's stout and took a big gulp, twisting his face in pain at the bitterness. He could not smooth his face in time so she saw his twisted pained look. She looked confused; and looked questioningly at Sam.

"Um... I dared... double dared Stannis to drink Jon's stout," Sam volunteered as he conspiratorially bumped Stannis' shoulder with his.

Stannis incredulously turned and looked at the cherubic looking Sam and finally realized his diabolical ploy to set Stannis up with Sansa. He quickly turned his head towards Pylos who was grinning at him and giving him the thumbs up signal. Pylos nodded to Jon who was by the dart board with a girl with matching curly brown hair. Jon scrunched his face and squinted both eyes. Was that a wink fail?

He shook his head. This could not be happening to him - he never went to bars to pick up women. And the worst was that he could see Sansa looking to see what he was looking at. She probably saw the thumbs up and thought poorly of him, thought he was a loser who trolled bars and needed a wingman. Stannis sighed - it was probably true. He was a single lonely man who got arrested for strangling his brother and who just can't talk to kind beautiful women.

She lifted his face up, looking into his eyes and smiling at him.

"Stannis, you and your friends are adorable. I like how you guys support each other - I like the bromance. By the way, my shift ends in fifteen minutes. I like to have a cuppa tea with you, alone."

And they had a cup of tea (and more cups of tea), and even without Sam's interjections (or perhaps because of it), they talked and talked. He felt more comfortable with her than even in his own skin - she seemed to get him, understand his drive and his need for exactness, what his brother called assholish, and also knew many obscure and not so obscure facts, being a junior Jeopardy winner when she was in high school. And she explained why she bartended - it was for the large tips. She needed the money to pay for law school even though her parents wanted to pay her way. Stannis was impressed by her drive and her intelligence and was drawn to her kindness and her quirky sense of humor.

When the hand of the clock hit midnight, he did not turn into a pumpkin. Instead, Sansa drove him home and never left.

And months later she tried camping but didn't like it - he didn't blame her as he didn't either. What Stannis really liked was sharing his life with her and loving and being loved by her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quote in italics is from Shakespeare's "Merchant of Venice." I originally thought of Tolkien's famous quote but realized that it did not fit here and was a variation of this quote that fitted the scene.


	43. Snow White and Rose Red (Tormund, Daenerys, and Sansa)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa/Any, Grimm Fairy Tales  
> Multiple fills strongly encouraged. Can be funny, gothic, floofy, sexy (smirk), etc. Your choice! Thanks!

Their twins were running around, laughing, like wildlings, like their da. And her Queen was not helping, chasing the red headed boys and laughing gaily. If the boys did not go to bed soon, they would wake up ill tempered and tired, yawning and falling asleep in their lessons, setting bad examples for their younger cousins, Jon's little princesses with Princess Wylla.

"Dany, please! Torrhen! Aemon! Please get into bed!"

The boys make a dash to the open door but are picked up easily by their da, Tormund.

"Ho, ho, ho, what do I have here? Some wee people? My lady wives, I heard some commotion and knew that you needed me to come rescue you, from these wildlings."

Tormund leaned down and gave Dany a sloppy kiss as the boys go ewwww! And he leaned towards Sansa who held him back with both arms and turned her head away.

"You! You fed them lemoncakes and riled them up! Now they won't go to bed. You are an insufferable man!" Sansa huffed.

Sometimes Sansa felt that she had four children with the twins marginally better behaved than her spouses. With a sparkle in her eyes, Dany reached out for her but she swatted her hand away. 

"No!" she hissed. She was not in the mood.

"My sweet, if Dany and I get our boys to sleep, will you find it in your soft heart to forgive us?... Please," Tormund wheedled, wanting to cuddle with and kiss his Northern queen tonight - he did not want her cold treatment. He batted his long red lashes coquettishly - Sansa tried to suppress a giggle and softly snorted.

Hanging the boys upside down, he makes a movement as to drop them but then gently place them both in bed as Dany tucked their blankets on them and kissed them both on their foreheads. The boys looked up guiltily at their mum who was still not pleased with her boys. 

Clearing his throat, Tormund said, "I will tell you a story of two princesses - Snow White and Rose Red. Stop fidgeting and listen. Both were the most beautiful women of the kingdom and the known world. Snow White had violet colored eyes and lovely silver-blond hair, almost white like the snow of my homeland and your mum's. She was so small, you could carry her in your pocket.... Ow! Dany, that was a joke - no she was slightly bigger - stop hitting me with your tiny wee fists - ow!"

The boys giggled as Dany was playfully punching Tormund because of his teasing her about her tiny stature. Finally, he caught both of her fists with one hand and pulled her and gave her another sloppy kiss. 

"All right - where did I leave off? Rose Red, right! Rose Red had skin so fair and velvety soft, eyes so blue, blue like the clear sky on a spring day, and lips so full, ripe and red like those berries you like to eat. I like to feast on those lips and her..."

He immediately stopped at Sansa's hard glares. Unlike Danny, who forgave him everything, Sansa held grudges and it took him weeks to get back to her good graces after his last lapse of judgement - not locking their room and surprising their maids.

Gulping nervously, he began again, "The beautiful princesses came upon a big red bear. Instead of being frightened of his huge size and his ferocity, they befriended him, stroked and petted him, and actually got quite rough with him. See these bites - they came from... Ow!" Sansa discreetly cuffed him.

"Um... They all played together for several months, and the princesses were happy with their new friend and he with them. But then along came a dwarf who demanded one of the greatest treasures in the kingdom. He wanted Rose Red for his wife, for her claim as she was the leader of the North, which was more than half the size of the kingdom. He tried to steal her but her heart was already stolen. When the big red bear confronted and challenged the dwarf, the dwarf pled for his life and told the bear to instead eat the two princesses, as they were such tasty morsels, better tasting than the dwarf."

The boys both shouted, "No! Da, you can't eat mum and Dany! You can't let the dwarf steal mum!"

"Do you know what the big red bear said to the dwarf? The big red bear said he loved his two princesses and would never turn against them - he was already theirs, and he would be blessed if they were to be his. With one blow, the bear broke the neck of the dwarf and wed his two princesses."

"Da, that is not how mum and Dany tell the story," Torrhen protested sleepily.

"No?" 

"They said the bear turned into a handsome prince."

"That may be what happened in their tale but the truth is that the two princesses want a bear in their bed."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was inspired by the movie Princess Bride and just the visual of a threesome involving Tormund, Dany and Sansa (aka Dragon Queen and her two ginger lovers - lol).
> 
> When I reread the original Grimm tale, I thought of how it could translate in this world. Not sure what this drabble ended up to be - hopefully, a fluffy, a bit silly drabble.
> 
> I apologize for the "short" jokes - I am vertically challenged myself.


	44. Sorry (Tyrion et al)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tyrion / Any  
> Tyron has a fatal disease and wants to make amends before he dies to the women in his life - Tysha (first wife), ghost of Shae (mistress), Sansa (second wife), and Cersei (his sister). Multiple fills encouraged and appreciated!

Everything hurts so much. Living hurts so much - not only the physical pains and aches but the regrets, the shame, the guilt....

He was not a big man, ha, but he is big enough man to admit his faults, so many, more than he could count on his stubby toes and fingers. 

The seven deadly sins - he did them all and definitely more than once! Pride (he was a Lannister lion after all!); envy (he wanted that love his parents had, even the sick love his siblings had); lust (he is known in all of Westeros as a walking, talking cock); gluttony and greed (they were one and the same for him - he was never satisfied and always hungered for more); sloth (he knew he should have done more for his little lady wife, but he was so weak); and, of course, wrath (wouldn't anyone be angry to live in his shoes - to be unloved and despised by your own family, even Jaime pitied him more than anything?)!

He wanted to atone for his misdeeds, to make up for all he had done and failed to do for the women in his life.

Tysha - was that her? He wanted to see her again. But her eyes looked so hurt, not full of love like they were before. He had to explain - it was not his fault.

He shouted, "I thought you were a whore!"

"Fook you!" she shouted back.

Slap, a crackling slap on his head. That hurt but he deserved it.

Wait, wait! Was that Shae? She betrayed him but maybe she did it because she thought he forsaken her. He tried to protect her, keep her safe. His father, that bastard (but what would that make him?), would have publicly flogged her to death if he found out about them. Tywin did not like whores. She didn't understand - he needed to make her understand. Perhaps if he spoke slowly.

"You... Are... A... Whore! Father doesn't like whores!" he enunciated slowly and clearly.

"Fuck you, you fucking dwarf!" she shouted.

Slap - this one even harder. Shae was a really tough girl, much stronger than his Tysha.

Shaking his head of the fuzziness, he thought he saw her red hair, red like the hair between her legs. So soft, so kind, so beautiful... Any man would have wanted to deflower her. He would have been good to her... much better than his nephew twice over. Maybe she finally changed her mind - who wouldn't blame her (many have sang praises of his skills in bed)?

"So you have come to be pierced by my not so little sword? I knew that you always wanted me..."

"Fock you!"

Slap! Slap! Seven hells, for such a little girl, she packed a great punch! Maybe he should have not teased her - some ladies did not like to be teased. So different from common girls who just bent over and took it, not requiring small talk - see what he did there? Hee, hee... He is cracking himself up.

Opening his eyes slowly, he see blond hair, hair like his, like his siblings. He reached for it.

"Mummy, is it you? I did not mean to let you down. I am so sorry. I wished I could have done more..."

"I am not your mother! You done enough, fucking arse! You lived! You should have died, should have never been born... your miserable life was naught worth living, you worthless piece of shite!!!" she yelled.

"Mummy! No!!!"

Slap!

"Mummy...."

Slap!

Suddenly his vision cleared, he saw his sister Cersei slapping him, crying and cursing! He could not stand her, her cruel sneering face, her screams, her hands slapping him! This could not be the last thing he heard, saw and felt!

He grabbed her neck and twisted with everything he had and with his last dying breath, he whispered, "Sorry..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was another one of my attempts of dark humor that went sideways.
> 
> The backstory is that spiteful Cersei has come to watch Tyrion die. Before he dies, he hallucinates and imagines Tysha, Shae, Sansa and his mother in front of him before he sees Cersei. When he says his last words to those women, Cersei hears them and thinks he is talking to her. And she reacts.
> 
> It was a clunky attempt of humor - mainly surrounded by the word fuck and the different ways it could be pronounced.


	45. His heart is burning (Jon/Sansa and Sam)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> song inspiration: down by the river by delta rae
> 
> i get shivers hearing the song - it is so powerful.
> 
> <http://youtu.be/ji5y9NF8rXg>

Jon thought he seen it all - more than four years working in the most violent crime division of the FBI. This case was a favor from somehow up high in the FBI. His boss said he needed a break after the Black Dahlia copycat case. It was supposed to be a mere diversion - not a serial murder, not a terrorist attack, no federal crime committed - seemingly an accident or maybe a crime of passion, not typically a case that the FBI was involved. The local cops on the case, Tyrion and Bronn, knew it as well as he did. He could tell from their side eyes - he did not need to be a profiler to see their hackles raised at what obviously was a case of the FBI overstepping their bounds. But they did not raise a stink - they were probably hiding something. He made a mental note to check on the two.

The victim, Petyr Baelish, was found in the shallow end of the bayou, a man who was dressed to the nines - in an elegant well cut white tux complete with a white snakeskin cane and white cape. Jon raised his eyebrows and his partner, Sam, explained that he attended Le Diner en Blanc, a high-society dinner flash mob. The man probably drank too much and fell into the bayou. The muddy waters was the grave to many drunks.

Sighing, he drove up the winding road to the man's home. It was the grandest mansion he had ever seen. Sam noted and pointed out the Greek Revival characteristics - ionic porticos, gable roofs, squared doorways, heavy granite lintels above apertures, imposing Corinthian columns, and dentils. It was if Sam was speaking another language - Jon snorted when he realized that he was.

He rang the bell. When the grand door was opened, he did not expect an adrogynous woman (man?) who opened the door and mutely ushered them into the yellow sitting room that was bathed in sunshine. There were only three chairs in the room. The doyenne of the house, Mistress Lysa Arryn-Baelish, sat in the ornate center one, and her son Master Robert perched in another chair. And in the daintiest chair, her step daughter, Miss Alayne, graced them with her elegance. The only available seat was a French settee that could barely contain Sam and him.

The family of the deceased was dressed in black, which contrasted with their paleness. Both Mistress Lysa and Robert looked sickly and pasty pale, with dark purplish circles under their sharp eyes, while Alayne simply glowed, looking like an ethereal wood nymph with her dark long locks. Both he and Sam stared at her.

Mistress Lysa started to hysterically cry and begged leave even before Sam made the introductions - "Agent Tarley and Agent Snow." She took away her son, who clung to her, leaving them alone with Alayne.

Sam nervously started again, "Miss Alayne, I am sorry for the loss of your father, Petyr."

As Sam spoke, the sun intensified and illuminated her fair skin, which seemed almost translucent, so paper thin that he could see her tiny blood vessels, seemingly see right through her. At that very moment, he swore he saw a flicker of a joyous smile, a look of elation. He remembered that smile - the smile one had when one ate the last lemon cake. But then the sun dimmed, and he saw her somber face and her lips moving slowly. Mesmerized, he could not focus on her words but only stared at her red full lips and how her sharp white teeth would sometimes bite her lower lip. Jon wondered how she would taste - would she taste as sweet as she looked? 

He felt like he was underwater, hearing only snippets of words that he could not fully comprehend. She said something about the "red sun", and he could only think Tolkien's quote - " _A red sun rises. Blood has been spilled this night_." His step sister Sansa loved  Lord of the Rings \- she preferred delicate blond Legolas over rugged dark Aragorn while her best friend Jeyne preferred the ranger. Sansa was the reason he joined the FBI - she was taken, raped and killed. Her killer kept her head and her hands but they knew it was her - the corpse was wearing the dress she proudly hand sewn. He vowed to catch killers - he did not want any family to go through what his family went through. They were so broken - some pieces never put back together.

Shaking his head, trying to clear his memories of sweet Sansa, he tried to focus on Alayne's narrative of her alibi. She mentioned hearing the howls of wolves that night but he did not think there would be wolves down here, so far south. Sansa had a dog that was part wolf - they all did. When she went missing, Lady was gone.

Sam got up to use the restroom. He drank too much iced tea.

Turning to Jon, Alayne expressed surprise that her daddy fell into the bayou, saying he was always careful and cautious about the slippery walkways and bridges. Even just recently, her daddy chided her to hold his hand when walking along the river - he told her, " _Hold my hand. Ooh, baby, it's a long way down to the bottom of the river_ ". Jon could not believe it but those words were similar to the admonishments that his step mother would tell them all when they walked alongside the frozen river near their home. When Sansa disappeared, her mother initially feared she fell through the ice.

But Alayne was not Sansa. She could not be. Sansa's blue eyes were innocent and naive, while Alayne's were cold and calculating. Sansa had bright red hair, brighter red than Mistress Lysa who looked a bit like his stepmother Catelyn. Alayne had dark mahogany hair, so black that it shone. If Sansa were alive, she would be trying her hardest to go home, to be with her family, to be with the ones who loved and missed her so. She would not stay here, living with these strange strangers. She would not call the dead man daddy when she had a father, their father whose eyes were full of regret and grief.

Jon did not realize he was crying until he felt her small hand wipe away his tears. She felt like, smelled like and acted like Sansa. Sansa would wipe his tears away when Theon teased him mercilessly. He gasped, yearning to be with her once again.

"Oh, Jon. Don't you cry. It will be all right. The river will wash all the sins away."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wanted a southern gothic vibe - a particular type of creepiness but again did not hit the mark. alas.
> 
> the first quote in Italics was from Tolkien's "The Twin Towers" and the second quote was from the song the drabble was inspired by - bottom of the river.


	46. Animal Style (Tywin/Sansa)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tywin/Sansa, food fetish  
> like 9 1/2 weeks but 11 (a la Spinal Tap).

The phone rang at 2 am in the morning. His heart clutched as he thought of all of the horrible things that could have happened. Was it God forbid Jaime or even Kevan?

But then he heard her little flirty giggle.

"Daddy, can I come over?"

Seven hells, this red haired vixen was going to be the death of him!

That night they had a nice dinner at an intimate French bistro but she politely demurred the offer of dessert and coffee, saying it was a school night as the waiter awkwardly stood by. Tywin wanted to roll his eyes, knowing how it made him look, that he was some sleazy old coot trying to hook up with some jail bait, when, in fact, his date was the youngest tenured professor in Gender Studies at the prestigious Kingslanding University. Indeed she was young, in her early thirties although she looked so much younger, but she had lived through much and not only persevered but thrived.

And now this, with his mind still muddled with sleep, he replied, "W-what?" 

"How does four by four, animal style, in your bed sound?" the cheeky minx replied.

"G-good?" he replied. Is she suggesting an orgy? Four by four, does that mean sixteen or eight? Hopefully, all the others were women - they just had to be. Closing his eyes, he prayed to all of the Gods, old and new. He did not think he could take it, seeing Sansa with any other man but himself. A lion doesn't share.

"Good. See you soon." He could hear her smile.

Click. Dial Tone. 

In panic, he looked down at himself, clothed only in light linen pajama bottoms. Did he need to get ready? Any manscaping? Did he have enough condoms? Perhaps, he needed to take a quick shower, to wake himself up.

There were three stages in his life - before Joanna (where he engaged in much shenanigans but never full-on orgies), Joanna (he never imagined that she would leave this world before him), and now this (a few short affairs that amicably ended but he was looking for so much more and hoping to find with brilliant Sansa who seemed bursting with such vitality). 

After taking the quick shower, he was fully alert. Tywin shook his head - no, whatever happens, he will let it happen organically, not try to control everything like he always done in the past. He had to let go. She was the One - smart, funny, adventurous, and strong (she wouldn't put up with anyone's bullshit - he saw that in action in her interactions with Petyr Baelish, head of her department). She was not Joanna - she was singularly herself.

When the door bell rang, he was actually relieved that there was only Sansa with a small paper bag. He was so afraid that his heart could not take it if there were more and especially if she brought any guys with her.

They kissed, and that was good, very good. She felt so good, smelled so good.

She smiled and said, "Tywin, I am so sorry that I woke you up but I missed you so much."

"But I thought it was a school night," he smiled right back as she pretended to leave. 

"Right, then I should be going." She giggled as he pinned her against his door.

"Vixen... Minx... Tease," he whispered hoarsely as he kissed her on her neck, her jaw and her mouth after each word.

Even though she was still holding the bag, she somehow broke his hold. Giggling, Sansa then raced to his bedroom. 

Knowing that she wanted to be caught, he followed her more slowly, like a predator slowly stalking his prey. Plopping on his bed, Sansa slowly removed her coat. And he felt his mouth dry - she was a vision in light blue lacy sheer lingerie! 

But his arousal turned into shock when she removed a huge burger from the paper bag she brought and handed it to him as she grabbed its twin and took a big bite. She was eating atop his Frette Italian linens, and messily at that. A pinkish sauce was on the corner of her pretty mouth, which her pink tongue licked off. That was actually cute. He scrunched his face in a grimace when some lettuce fell on his sheets. That was not so cute. Tywin was torn between wanting to stop her from eating in his bed and wanting to eat her in his bed, knowing that if he yelled at her to stop, the latter would unlikely happen.

When she finished chewing her first bite, she invited him onto his bed, "Come and eat with me in bed. That is what makes this fun - it is doing something that we were told that we shouldn't do but doing it because it is fun and naughty."

Relaxing his face, he climbed in, next to his love, carefully holding his burger and grateful that she handed him some napkins. Tywin took smaller bites of the large burger, four well seasoned and juicy meat patties and four slices of cheese, grilled onions, crisp lettuce, sliced tomatoes and that heavenly special sauce gluing everything together, and admitted that it tasted better than anything he ever tasted. He snorted and smiled. Fuck the sheets!

And then she licked him, as he got a bit of the sauce on his chin. Somehow, the napkins were tossed, and they messily feasted on each other, the burgers, the fries and his milk shake (although she did not order any shakes).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just can't do sexy (pouts sadly) so I went for silly fluffy. Sorry if I disappoint. (more like 3 on sexy scale and hopefully an 8 on the fluffy scale getting it to a combined score of 11 over 20). I kinda envision this attempt like the mini stone henge in the movie Spinal Tap when the guys in the band thought " meant feet versus inches - a lotta buildup for something so small and kinda cute.
> 
> The backstory is that Tywin is a significant donor for the Kingslanding University, and that is how he met Sansa.
> 
> And I just love In-n-out and miss it so much now that I live and work in the east coast. Nothing can compare!


	47. Aladdin Sane (Margaery and Stannis)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Margaery x Stannis, I Dream of Jeanie AU  
> Tony = Stannis  
> Jeannie = Margaery

Margaery admitted that she did fall hard for astronaut Captain Stannis Baratheon when she initially met him, when he first freed her from the bottle that was her prison for two thousand years. He was kind, decent - she did not think such men existed.

But the problem was that she truly did not want a good man, she wanted a bad boy that she could not fully tame and who she could punish (smirk). And she knew that he did not see her in a romantic way - her being a genie was such a stumbling block for him! He wanted a "normal" woman who couldn't magick her way out of almost everything, a woman who actually had to do things herself, has to make the effort and get her hands dirty so to speak. He did not understand how difficult it truly is to be a genie, where what is real is only limited by your imagination. Thinking is tough!

Yet despite of all that, Margaery was quite fond of the captain, who set her free from her bottle and wanted her to be truly free. She understood why he did not want others to discover her powers, knowing that if they did, they would want to imprison her and to exploit her. Only he, his sweet best friend Davos and his delightfully naughty older brother, Robert, knew of her secrets. So far Stannis had been successful in keeping nosy U.S. Air Force Colonel Dr. Tywin Lannister in the dark about her powers.

It was ironic that her master truly did not want to be her master, did not want her to use her powers at all. Stannis wanted to truly earn others' respect and win all the laurels based on his own merits, muttering (he truly must stop grinding his teeth and enunciate) something about "blood, sweat and tears" (which seemed actually quite disgusting), not having her merely nod and snap her pony tail and have everything magically happen. She wanted to respect his viewpoint but really thought that it was silly. And so they agreed to disagree on that and on Robert being her new master, although Stannis had significant misgivings over the latter decision citing their immaturity and their lack of self-control. 

But before the handoff of her bottle to his brother, she wanted to make sure that Stannis' wish, what he truly wanted, came true. He did not ask for much, and she was a genie afterall! She knew that he wanted a wife - she could not fully understand that as wives are boring while mistresses are so much fun! It was so clear in his jealous and envious looks at Robert's best friend, Ned, and Ned's wife, Catelyn. He wanted what Ned had - a loving wife and beautiful children (she shuddered thinking about children as children meant sticky and dirty hands ruining her cute and tiny outfits). It seemed so boring and pedestrian to her but different strokes for different folks.

So she tried to set up Stannis with women like Catelyn, red headed and beautiful, but with significantly more fire. In each set-up, she had Stannis doing some amazing feats - such as pulling Melisandre out of a burning building without getting burned. But even Margaery was disturbed by Melisandre regarding her blood kink and her fascination with leeches (yuck!). The second girl, Ygritte, was a wild child, and Margaery magicked him onto an icy mountain to save her from plunging down to her death. Unfortunately, Ygritte, an archer, liked to use him as target practice after hearing too many times his grammatical corrections of her sentence structures. 

Stannis was really angry with her, saying that while he appreciated her wanting to help him, he did not need it. This made her roll her eyes as she knew that he needed a lot of help. She knew that he was only angry because one of Ygritte's shots grazed him.

Sighing, she looked at Robert, who was laughing with Ned and the guys by the BBQ, and wondered how two brothers could be so different.

Then she heard a snort and a muffled laughter and was shocked to see her master actually having a pleasant conversation with a red headed beauty. He was actually smiling - she had never seen that before and pinched herself as Stannis normally had a resting bitch face. And what was even more amazing was the beautiful woman was also glowing and smiling and giggling. OMG, she did that hair twisting and the biting of her lower lip! Margaery whipped her head around to see if there was another genie around, trying to play a dirty joke on her master who was actually quite sensitive. Then she caught her master's twinkling and smug eyes - perhaps he did not need her help after all.


	48. Freak (Myranda and Sansa)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Myranda x Anyone, Burlesque  
> she knows how to put on a show

She was prancing like a pony, high stepping and kicking her legs back high, but the vibe was nothing like My Little Pony as the beats of Ginuwine's Pony boomed.

Myranda looked at her audience - her best friend who was watching so avidly, her face so determined, even taking notes. Sansa actually got up close to check out her arm and leg positions.

This won't do!

She knew that this was a mistake when Sansa approached her, wanting to spice up her sex life with Harrold Hardyng. Myranda knew Harrold, and she warned Sansa about him, that his appetites were even more fulsome than her own, especially since her appetite was actually quite large. That man was not worth the littlest finger of her best friend's hand, nay, not even a finger nail. But when Sansa asked her, looking so wistful and so hopeful, she could never say no. She loved her friend so much.

Myranda stopped dancing, turned off the music and walked back to Sansa, who looked sad.

"Myranda, sorry, I got in your way. I will go back and sit down, like a proper audience," said Sansa.

"This is burlesque - there is nothing proper in this. There are no rules other than that there are no rules, no inhibitions, no shame... You can dance for yourself, for your lover or lovers, or for an audience of strangers. But the important thing is that when you dance, you must feel it, truly feel the music, the story you want to weave, the character you are in the story," Myranda told her as she held Sansa's hands in hers.

"And I can't do that, right? I um don't feel anymore-"

"No. That is not what I am saying. If anything you feel too much, you care so much, too much about some people, l'il missy. Everyone who dances burlesque does it their way as everyone has a different story to tell, or even if it is the same story being told, there is a different take as everyone is different. You can't just watch me, take notes of my every inflection, every boob shake, every grind, and mimic what you see."

"But I don't know-" Sansa started.

Cupping Sansa's tiny face, Myranda placed her forehead against Sansa's forehead, trying to will her friend to see, to see the beauty and kindness and strength that is inside her, to see her true worth.

"Missy, but you do. What do I hear you hum this morning getting your Frosted Flakes?" asked Myranda.

Sansa giggled and demurred, "That doesn't count - it is silly. Ok, ok, Get Ur Freak On."

"And you like all the freaky songs. I saw you get down with Mya at her wedding with Super Freak."

"But everyone got down on that - Old Nan was bumping and grinding with Lothor."

Both laughed at that memory. Despite her hearing loss, Old Nan liked to dance, and she liked younger men even more. Poor Theon totally got manhandled by her!

"And when we did the disco theme party, you totally killed it, doing the robot and moonwalking to Freak-a-Zoid."

"So my story is that I am a freak?" asked Sansa incredulously.

"That is just one of your stories, you magical unicorn! You are a big freak, in the best of ways."

Programming her iPod, she blasted Get Ur Freak On as Sansa just let go.

Sansa sang/shouted out the lyrics with Missy.

_"I know you feel me now (yes)_  
_I know you hear me loud (yes)_  
_I scream it loud and proud (yes)_  
_Missy gon' blow it down (yes)_  
_People gon' play me now (yes)_  
_In and outta town (yes)_  
_'Cause I'm the best around (yes)_  
_With the crazy style (go)"_

There was so much joy - she did all the old and new dances! She loved dancing! She started with the dramatic slow to rise. She even got Myranda do the old school kid-n-play with her, which made both of them guffaw, laughing so hard they were breathless. Even when the beat was fast and frantic, Sansa slowed it down, slowly gyrating and even cabbage patching as she went down until she lost her balance and fell on her ass.

Laying on the floor, breathing heavily, Sansa smiled at her best friend.

"I see what you just did," Sansa said as she wagged her tiny finger at Myranda who tried unsuccessfully to look innocent - she could not truly do the innocent Little Bo Peep routine no matter how hard she tried.

"I love you and you are right. Harrold is a lying cheat," Sansa continued, "And I deserve better cuz I am the best around with the crazy style and of course with the craziest and bestest friend in town!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally, I had Myranda perform for Sandor but thought it could go so very wrong. I decided instead to write about girl friendships because I truly believe that Myranda cared for Alayne/Sansa.
> 
> I was actually inspired by the First Lady singing Karoake carpool with Missy Elliot and James Corden.
> 
> The words in Italics is from Missy Elliot's Get Ur Freak On.


	49. Fool (Cersei/Jaime)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime x Cersei, song inspiration  
> Ceelo Green's Fool for Love  
> "That deep, that sweet, that soft and that wet that fire, that funky stuff  
> That up and that down, that front and that back, baby I can't seem to get enough  
> Ooo Baby let me do it, let me do it 'til I'm satisfied ahh ahh  
> Baby now please baby I ain't got no more pride"

She loved these lazy mornings when she was abed, looking at her love's beautiful face, the lovely long lashes, his high cheekbones, strong nose and, her favorite, his soft lips, the only thing besides his heart that was soft she smirked.

That was the problem. Her love was not truly a lion even though he looked physically impressive, so strong in his golden armor, with his golden flowing locks. His aunt got it partially right when she told her father who really is the lion in the family - the runt Tyrion had more fighting spirit than the greatest warrior in Westeros. Her love was a kitten, and an especially lovable one at that. So cuddly, so loving and so trusting.

Her father scoffed at attachments, knowing that that they could be weaknesses to be exploited by their enemies. He thought it was folly to love, and she did agree. Love is poison. A sweet poison, yes, but it will kill you all the same.

And yet, she could not stop, could not quit their relationship, even though it was wrong on so many levels. By having him near, she is endangering not only herself but her beloved children. Luckily, Joffrey was more her while the other two were more like her love in character, with Tommen unfortunately being the most like his biological father, such a kitten like the ones he loved with all of his heart. 

Her love, although the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, could never protect her, his Queen, never truly could even with both hands intact. Even his attempt of protecting them by pushing that poor Stark boy, that boy who was only a bit younger and older than her boys, was such a failure, threatening the breakup of the kingdom with both the forces of the riverlands and the North uprising against them. He was a fool but she was an even bigger fool, a fool for love. 

In many ways, what she truly loved in Jaime was what she would find weak in others - his undying love and almost naive commitment to her, just like those songs and stories they both loved when they were young. It was so pure - and he was so good, truly, but if not for her. Maybe she unknowingly was the one who tainted him, his name, so that he could not be a famed knight like his heroes, Ser Aemon Targaryens, the Dragonknight, or Ser Arthur Dayne, the Sword of the Morning; but instead was scorned as the Kingslayer. She thought his actions that fateful day, to save his family and the kingdom, so brave and so worthy of admiration. And she could not understand his reluctance to set things straight, to wipe those scornful looks that honorable Ned and her husband sported when they looked upon him. Jaime did not think he is a good man.

Her love acted like that their looks of derision and their mocking words did not matter, but she knew that they hurt him, all those stupid men and women who spitted out Kingslayer as he walked by; and she wanted so badly to destroy everyone that hurt him. Killing Robert's bastards weren't merely to protect Joffrey's ascension to King, it was to destroy and end Robert's line as neither Renley nor Stannis would ever have male heirs and Shireen, the weak spawn of Stannis, would surely die soon.

Closing her eyes, she stroked the fine hair on his chest, feeling his heart beat and knowing that it beats for her. 

Valonqar, little brother it means. She wanted to believe it was Tyrion, that fucking arse, but she knew that it was her Jaime, born a few minutes after her. He would be her downfall even though (or perhaps because) he loved her so.

Taking the dagger from underneath her bed, the one meant for Robert but she could never do it, she lightly touched the sharp blade. 

In his sleep, he sighed her name, Cersei, with such reverence and such adulation. She was his God.

She put the dagger away. She could not do it - to kill him would mean to kill the better part of herself. 

Cersei leaned down, grabbed a firm hold of him, and prepared him for their next round as he moaned loudly and slowly opened his eyes, with such warmth in his eyes. And the madness, the light, the heat, begins again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did not get the dirty passionate tone of Alice Smith's live version of this song, which was what I originally intended with this prompt. I decided to have it be more contemplative, perhaps too thoughtful. I wanted to be fair to Cersei but ended with something so watered down. I somehow believe that she knew she was fucked - that they all were, everyone she loved. Instead of running away from her fate, I see her running towards it.
> 
> Before I forget, the last line contains a part of a lyric from Peter Gabriel's In Your Eyes.


	50. Turing test (Jorah and Daenerys)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jorah/Daenerys, Viserys  
> Ex Machina tells the story of programmer Caleb Smith (Jorah) who is invited by his employer, the eccentric billionaire Nathan Bateman (Viserys), to administer the Turing test to an android with artificial intelligence, named Ava (Daenerys).

After all he done, making it so that she could escape, all he got from her was this question.

"Jorah, will you stay here?"

Incredulously, he just looked at her and watched her walk away, away from him. Her hips gently swaying as if naught was wrong, as if it did not matter to her one whit whether he followed. He waited for her to turn around, to stop and beg him to come with her. But she never hesitated - the only time she stopped was waiting for the elevator door to open.

When the clear elevator door closed, he saw her beautiful impassive face. He knew right at that moment that she was leaving him, that she truly had no feelings for him.

He laughed, as he knew that she was a machine, a robot, that Viserys created her, programmed her, made her act the way she did, made her say those words of endearment she whispered shyly to him, made her move so seductively and made her touch him, inflaming his body.

Yet he could not stop staring at and lusting after her when she repaired her missing arm and put on her skin, using the parts of a deprogrammed robot. There was something so intimate when she shyly placed the skin against curvy metallic exoskeleton, as the artificial skin fused onto her body, and instead of concealing her body, revealing her lush nakedness, her high full tits tipped with palest pink nipples, her tiny waist, her rounded hips and pert ass, and her rosy pale skin with a tiny patch of silky blond hair between her legs. Yet it was when she slowly put on her white gown, looking regal yet vulnerable, that his desire almost overwhelmed him, more so than when she gave him the most perfect blowjob. He wanted her, he hungered for her and he would do anything for her.

As he watched her leave him, he wanted to ask her why? Yet he knew her response - that he already knew. And he did. He did not follow her because he did not truly believe that she was a sentient being and could pass as a human in the real world - despite his feelings for her, he knew that she was a machine, an object of his desire.

He then realized that he was an even worse monster than her mad creator, Virserys, who lacked any moral compass. He knew that he did not truly love her - he only wanted to own her. He wanted to keep Daenerys as his sex slave, just as Virserys did with Doreah, for her to obey him and fulfill his every desire and wish. He could try to pretend that was what she wanted, to be with him because she loved him, but she could not truly want or feel. And even if she did feel, she would not want him, such a damaged and stupid and weak man. She was set to rule the world - she was programmed to be a Queen. She would want a strong consort, a equal, by her side.

Laughing silently, he realized that it was he that failed the Turing test, that it was he who lacked the empathy and humanity. And that was the reason why he was forever damned, trapped here until he dies since he programmed the doors to only recognize Daenerys and her kind, not humans, as he never thought she would ever leave without him. It would take months before anyone would realize anything was amiss, and by that time, she would be long gone and he would be dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know what this is truly about - I wrote this in about fifteen minutes and still a bit dizzy from the writing jag. 
> 
> I don't know what being human is anymore as I sometimes feel that people are acting in such inhuman ways, the way they treat each other and they speak of each other as if the others are not humans with feelings. And it is in this dystopic world, our children and our children's children will live or exist. I want better or hope for better.


	51. Butterfly (Myrcella & Quentyn and Myrcella /Oberyn)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quentin, MyrcellaxOberyn, groupie  
> Inspired by the movie "Almost Famous".

He did not know why he followed them out of the band tour bus - her flitting like a faerie, giggling, with shirtless Oberyn slowly following her, swaggering and laughing lowly. Sweet Myrcie was such a free spirit - next week, she could be with another band, another guitarist, maybe with a drummer (Quentyn blushed remembered what she said about drummers).

When he opened the auditorium doors, his jaw dropped. There she was, in her tiny white embroidered top and cut-off shorts, languidly twirling in the debris lined auditorium floor and holding a long rose stem. Her willowy body gracefully floated and dipped. The half lit overhead lights made her curly golden hair glow, like a halo as she leaped and dipped, then slowly rolling onto the floor until she rose up, arching her back backwards. He could not help gasping at the movement. Even without any music playing, he heard music, the swelling notes that could not be contained in her heart and were written so clearly in her dazzling smile. As she sat up and rose to twirl again, Oberyn did his slow clap, seemingly awakening her from her reverie.

He held his breath to see if she would stop and return back to Oberyn or if she would continue to dance again. Quentyn was surprised how much anger he felt seeing his favorite guitarist trying to cajole Mrycie to return back to him. Then he remembered with shame his angry and jealous words the night before, telling her to not go on tour with them, that the guys in the band, especially Oberyn, were using her and girls like her, that they were willing to bet her and Arianne away for fifty gold crowns and a bottle of Arbor Gold. Instead of flinching or looking hurt, she laughed and asked which band. It was not bravura. She whispered her mum, the legendary band aide who hung out with guitar god Rhaegar, taught her well - that she always told her that “Love is poison. A sweet poison, yes, but it will kill you all the same."

Hearing the loud claps, she stopped but did not turn towards Oberyn, her back towards him, but instead faced Quentyn. Seeing Quentyn awkwardly standing by the door, she smiled mischievously at him as Oberyn started to beg.

"Sweetie, I am sorry - she meant nothing to me," Oberyn said in his deep accented voice.

She opened her mouth and pretended to be lip sync Oberyn, making Quentyn almost giggle until she placed her tiny finger by her full lips. The dark haired man started to walk towards her when she did not respond. His steps echoed loudly through the almost empty auditorium. Suddenly Quentyn was scared for her, would intoxicated Oberyn be angry that she left him? While he had many other girls besides this tiny dancer, a new girl at every venue, there was always Myrcy and Ellaria in his arms the next day, massaging his temples and caring for him.

But instead of running and trying to escape, she looked over her shoulder at the smiling man, giggling. Oberyn reached her, holding her, whispering foreign words that made them both laugh. He threw her over his shoulder and playfully spanked her denim covered ass. Walking past Quentyn, out of the door, Oberyn messed his hair. As they went back to the bus, Myrcy lifted her curly mop and smiled and winked at Quentyn.

That night, as Oberyn took his time "punishing" her, making her groan and sigh, Quentyn thought of her dance - how she was so perfect, so singular and so free. She was like a beautiful butterfly that they all want to catch. One day, she would fly away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to borrow lightly a scene or two from the movie but changed the tone, the characterization of Penny.


	52. Cell Block L (Sandor and Sansa)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Westeros Ladies, "Orange is the New Black" AU  
> Choose any or many or few or all female characters (for example, Cersei, Ros, Asha, Sansa, Arya, Margaery, Olenna, Catelyn, Myrcella, Val, Ygritte, Elia, Arianne, Sands sisters, Dacey and/or her sisters, etc.)

She was trembling, so scared, looking like that she would make water. He was the monster that did this, did this to a true innocent. He never believed anyone was truly innocent - all of these inmates in here were guilty, not necessarily of the charges that got them locked up, but of other crimes. But Old Nan said this one, Red she called her, was different, and he knew that she was right. This one was truly a good girl. And he broke her.

Slamming his fist against the wall, he yelled Fuck! It hurt but not as much as seeing her flinch and hearing her gasp at his act of anger.

Breathing heavily, he needed to calm down. He needed to focus on that pain, which strangely grounded him, stopping him from exploding in a violent rage. He needed to calm the beautiful girl, who started hiccuping and crying and hyperventilating. He saw Old Nan gave him the stink eye as everyone was staring at them, even the smirking ass Ramsay.

He pulled her away from their eyes, pulled her behind the guard tower. He heard some of the guards tauntingly laughed, thinking he was tenderizing the Fresh Meat. Perhaps that was a good thing - if they thought she was his, maybe she was safe from their attentions as even Ramsay feared him.

Shaking his head, trying to quell his rage, he stared into her blue eyes that were filled with tears. 

"Please... please don't hurt me. I will be good," she whimpered. 

He tried to comfort her, stroking her soft red hair. 

"Shhhh... shhh," he shushed her. His other hand rubbed large circles on her upper back, between her tiny shoulder blades. 

She quieted but he could see that she was so scared of him.

"Little Bird, didn't mean to scare you but you cannot go anywhere without Old Nan or Ellaria. You cannot be stupid. Do... YOU... UNDERSTAND ME?!?!?!?"

He did not know why he was yelling at her but this was very important. And she was trembling as soon as he begun to educate her. He knew his scars were horrific, that he looked like a monster, but while he is acting monstrous towards her, there were true monsters here. He needed her to be safe - she had to be safe. He couldn't handle if there was another incident - he could not forgive himself about what happened to poor Elia Martell, a stupid petty thief, raped and bludgeoned to death by his brother. Thankfully, Gregor was facing trial for her murder and rape. But there were still Ramsay, Meryn, and some of the female inmates who preyed on pretty defenseless inmates just like her.

Still trembling, she looked up bravely and chirped, "I know that you are a good man - Old Nan said. And you are trying to help me but why do you have to yell at me and look like you want to hit me?"

And he was rendered speechless by her question. Why her? There were other girls, some pretty too and others willing to put out for a favor or two. Yet he did not have this almost overwhelming protective feelings towards any of them. Yeah, her soul was so pure, and she looked so fragile yet she had another steel in her spine to call him out just then. She was the one who disarmed him, rendering him defenseless. He wanted to say that it was Old Nan and her meddling ways but he knew that it was not true. What he felt, he hadn't felt before - he loved her.

He gruffly replied, "I just want to keep you safe. I cannot bear to see any harm come to you." 

It was the closest to saying his feelings of love for her. And she knew. He could see her fears fade as her tremulous smile grew.

Holding her tightly against her, he murmured, "I will protect you - don't you fret. I will always be there to protect you."

After his confession, he was heartened to see her blossoming, from a scared little chick to a high flying sparrow. She made friends with the Sands girls and even crazy Asha - he was surprised as he would have thought they would scoff at her girliness and softness as they were all very tough girls. But they kept her safe when he wasn't there, keeping the other guards away from her.

Yet all was not well in the prison. Ramsay was particularly abusive, and the girls were reporting his unwanted attentions and his assaults to seemingly dead ears. Prison Warden Bowen Marsh refused to mete any punishment, saying that bending to the will of the inmates would disturb the power balance in the prison, that the guards, who numbered significantly less than the inmates were always right. Sandor disagreed strongly but was overruled.

It all came to head when the girls led by Old Nan peacefully demonstrated against the abusive guards, refusing to go to their cells when the evening bell rung. Ramsay and his friends came out swinging, and Ramsay began to attack the spitting and profanity shouting Asha, trying to silence her. Sandor saw Sansa from the back, as the innocents were being shielded by the tough bitches, rushing forward, trying to reach her friend. He could not reach her and thwart her advance, and he horrifiedly watched as Ramsay viciously clubbed her. He was too late - it was too late!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was my attempt to have Sansa take on Poussey's storyline but it was a miss because I could not fully convey in this drabble the significance of her death, which resonated on so many levels.


	53. Broken (Sansa and Jon)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> JonxSansa, cheating AU  
> Married Sansa and Jon - your choice on who cheats (can be both), canon or modern and tone.

It was easy to take score, to ascribe a winner and a loser in their unhappy marriage (they were both losers in her blue eyes), to list all the ways her husband had gravely disappointed her and hurt her. 

When their babes were just a few months old, he gave them up, gave them to the Dragon Queen, his aunt, for them to be raised by her and learn the Targaryen ways, and perhaps the Dothrathi ways, but not the ways of the North. Now three and ten years later, she could not recognize them and only saw the scorn and hatred in their eyes as the Dragon Queen and their maesters fed them lies about House Stark and House Tully (but yet the Dragon Queen and her idiotic husband ironically aligned themselves with her former husband, Tyrion of House Lannister, the Hand for both). She could never forget nor ever forgive him this, this ultimate betrayal of her trust. He did not tell her before they were taken from her.

And when the Dragon Queen died, leaving the kingdom in turmoil, he took her back to Kingslanding, even though she never wanted to leave her home and return to the place where her father and their household were brutally killed. He said that he could not guarantee her safety if she was away from him. But no one could protect her, much less him, that fool! She hissed that truth to him but, of course, he did not listen. Why did she even bother to speak to him? And once she stepped foot on Kingslanding, she practically stopped speaking with him. Knowing her duty, she was publicly cordial to him and attended the bare minimum of public appearances.

She summarily dismissed the men he had guard her and reluctantly accepted Ser Addam Marbrand as her personal guard at the suggestion of her former husband with whom she formed a tentative friendship (in that she never fully trusted anyone but for Jeyne, her sweet Jeyne, and Jeyne's baby girl Ana, who stayed behind in Winterfell).

Why did she finally accept Addam's appointment? Was it because her husband was against the appointment? Perhaps, that had a part in her decision. Was it because she saw something in the way Addam's eyes lit up when he saw her, such a blunt appreciation of her physical attributes and beauty? That had much to do with her decision. She had to admit that she was lonely, and she was immediately attracted to him. He was striking - copper hair, handsome and strong features, tall and strong with broad shoulder, svelte waist, and long strong legs, well proportioned indeed.

Their lustful looks quickly turned to passionate kisses and warm embraces. Now her Sword sheathed himself firmly inside her, grunting after each deep thrust. It was true that Addam made her feel again, made her feel beautiful and precious, made her care for him, even perhaps made her fall in love with him. He was a considerate lover and thorough one too, always satisfying her first. But she hadn't yet fully given him her heart - Sansa was worried that he would also betray her, let her down and/or leave her like pretty much everyone she cared for (but for Jeyne and L'il Ana whom she had to leave behind and she missed terribly).

Perhaps Addam was a spy for Tyrion but she had to laugh at that. She had no influence on her husband - she did not even speak to him in private. She felt powerless - trapped again in a loveless marriage, forced to pretend to be a supportive spouse and loving mother to two strangers who were frankly entitled brats, worse than Sweetrobin ever was. But she did not give up on them even though her presence made them even more openly hostile as she could not pretend to care much for the late Queen, the only mother they knew. 

Even if Addam were not a spy hired by Jon or Tyrion, that did not mean that he would not disappoint her and hurt her like all the other times she gave her heart. She remembered how stupid she was, even after everything, to ever trust her husband, to love him, to think him different than all the men who used her. For only because she loved him, that he could hurt her so much - Cersei was right that love was the sweetest poison. No, she could not trust Addam, no she must not love him - she did not want to be hurt again.

Crying, she held onto Addam after his release, with his lips passionately kissing her and whispering hoarsely how much he loved her. It was much too much. There was a part of her that held back also because she knew what she is doing is wrong - perhaps that was why their children hated her. When Sansa stopped trembling and feigned sleep, Addam would always whisper that he would take her away but she knew he couldn't or wouldn't. Her husband was the only one who had full control of the dragons, not their children and not that foolish Queen who died falling from the sky. Jon would likely hunt them down and kill them both - isn't that what his mad ancestors would do?

Pacing in his room, Jon imagined his Queen in the arms of another man, her copper haired Sword who was clearly in love with her and one of only two men who could make her laugh and really smile, not like her distant and polite smiles she graced him with during their few public appearances. He wanted to kill fucking Addam with his bare hands but could not. Perhaps he could give him to Ghost but no, Ghost would never do it, never do anything to hurt Sansa. Perhaps Virserion could roast and eat that insufferable man, who looked at her as she was his entire world. But Sansa would never forgive Jon - he could not make her cry again.

Jon loved her, not as his half sister, but as his lover even before they wed. He fell in love with his fierce wife when he first saw her return, leading the knights of the Vale. The Queen threatened to execute her - Sansa had too much power, over the Vale with Sweetrobin so entranced by his cousin, the Riverlands due to her Tully blood and looks, and the North. She was involved in multiple deaths - Joffrey, Lysa, Harrold, and Petyr. His Queen was frankly threatened by her; and he had to promise everything to save her from the same fiery fates as poor King Tommen and countless others. 

Jon could not tell her. There was never a right time as he wanted to revel in her love, her kindness and her happiness with him. Until it was too late and she wouldn't listen to him.

And it was true that it was safer for her to be by his side. But he just wanted her near him even though her disdain and disgust in him cut him. Jon felt that if he gave her everything she asked, his wife would come back to him. But she asked for nothing even after he asked her what she wanted. She looked him in the eyes and spat that he had nothing that she could ever want. 

Jon wanted to also strangle his Hand who introduced his Queen to her lover. Tyrion worried about the Queen's happiness - his Hand too wanted her to be happy, to appease the guilt of his family's actions and his own actions and inactions toward her in Kingslanding. Even Jon had to admit her eyes were no longer listless and her appetite had returned now that she had Addam by her side. If he truly cared for her happiness, he wouldn't have these jealous thoughts and have such rage. Jon wanted to roar in frustration - he could be brave in battle but be totally disarmed by her, the woman he loved.

His Hand also offered to locate him a discrete bed warmer but he could never do that to his wife, never betray her again. Tyrion counseled him to confess everything but he was not good with his words. His Hand offered to write a letter on his behalf but he did not want to deceive her using Tyrion's words - she would see through everything and be more enraged at him, if that were possible.

And he could understand her rage - their children were mirror images of his aunt, impulsive, domineering, and so righteous in believing that they are in the right. They were trained to hate their mother by his former Queen, who was insecure that the children would take after Sansa and turn on her. He frankly did not like them - he never liked Danaerys.

He ran to the godswood, seeking some relief from the pain in his heart. Jon saw his wife kneeling in front of the heart tree, crying. He embraced her, even though she feebly struggled against him. She hit him with her tiny fists - each blow did not even smart physically but was a blow felt in his heart. She hated him, could not stand being touched by him.

"My love, could you ever forgive me?" he asked.

"You never loved me. You took everything, my love, my children, my trust. I hate you! You are like all those men - Sandor, Harrold, Joffrey and even Petyr! Nay worse, because I truly loved you!" she shouted.

"She would have killed you - have you burned like the others. I could not risk that!" he replied.

"But why did you not tell me at the beginning? That I had to find out when they took my babes. You are a craven liar," she said accusingly.

"There was not naught what we could do - if you did not conceive and bear her heirs, she would have killed you."

"We would overthrow her - you and I, with the combined forces of the North, the Vale and the riverlands - before the babes were born," she said.

"Then she is right - you are a threat to her and the kingdom."

"Only because she threatened my life and threaten to take our babes!!! You are a fool to not understand, even now, and I was a worser fool to give you my heart!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a sloppy disaster and cannot be salvaged. I just could not find any believable scenario for either of the two to cheat. 
> 
> Gads - it was a horrible prompt! Oh, I wrote that prompt (lol)!


	54. Chill (Robb and Margaery)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Margaery/Robb, Netflix and chill  
> Robb likes movies but he even likes more what he doesn't see on the screen

It was Tuesday, Movie Night, one of his favorite night of the week. Both of his mates were out, with their girls (although he did not like to think of Jon with his little sister). And the main reason why he loved this night was sashaying towards him in his favorite T shirt with a huge bowl of buttery popcorn. 

Throwing a kernel to his open mouth which he missed, she whispered seductively, "So whadda we watching tonight?"

"Does it matter?"

He groaned as she sank down on him.


	55. Jon the White Wolf, Red Sansa and Sandor the Barbarian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More Sandor as Conan the Barbarian

He forgot himself. Or, even more troubling, he was his true self, the monster inside him even uglier than his exterior, with half of his face melted. He hurt her, pulling her long red hair back, brutally fucking her tight hole, pounding her faster and harder as she screamed until she could not scream anymore. Now he laid atop, like dead weight, crushing her.

All his demons haunted him last night, threatening to suffocate in the darkness and the burning flames, but it was no excuse, never an excuse. He could not breathe, could not truly see, but for the redness in her hair were like shooting flames, so hot, burning him. He threatened to gut many of his men before for doing just half of the things he did to her. He raped her - she was asleep, could not consent. He was the monster, just like his brother, but even worse...

Crying, he rolled off her as she raggedly gasped for air. Ashamed, he got up and walked away, gathering his clothes and supplies. He was not fit to be near her - he needed to go. Before he could saddle Stranger, he ducked, sensing something behind him, as a blade slashed where his head was. He back-kicked and turned around to see a white pelted man on the ground with his sword knocked out of his hand. Enraged, he unsheathed his broad sword and was about to finish him when her twin blades stopped him. While strong, she was not stronger than he, and he could have easily overpowered her. But he stopped and staggered back. He deserved this, her blades against him, as he was the one who just betrayed her trust, her love. He dropped his sword and raised his arms in supplication at the naked woman in front of him.

"Fucking end it... Do it."

The man on the ground got up and tackled him, pummeling him with his fists. He waited for him to bludgeon him to death, to stop the dark voices in his head, to end it. He was ready to meet the Stranger. 

Dizzy with pain and awashed in guilt, he noticed that the blows to his head and his torso stopped and there was deafening silence. He slowly opened his eyes that he cowardly closed, not wanting to see her sad beautiful face as the last vision he would see. He saw her holding back the man, who ceased struggling in her arms and actually leaned into her hold. 

The man was lean and well muscled, body slightly scarred but his face was hauntingly beautiful like hers. They were both striking and sleek - his dark hair, warm grey eyes, pouty lips and her vibrant red mane, sky blue eyes, full red lips. He could tell by the way they held each other, that they were intimate, the way the man gripped her bare hips and the way she touched his chest and clutched his shoulder.

"Jon, please-" she started to speak.

Jon interrupted her, "But Sansa, I saw him - he hurt you, made you scream and crushed you. He doesn't own you - you don't have to be scared. I will protect you from this monster. I will care for you."

Sandor spit out the blood from his mouth but could not disagree. He was a monster to her, the woman he loved. Too good for him, much too good. He deserved this Jon's fists, this punishment. He deserved death.

"Nay, Jon, you are wrong. He is a good man - sometimes he cannot control himself, but he did not hurt me, not like the other men."

The beautiful man stroked her hair and kissed her on her forehead. And his hands moved to grab her ass as she squealed.

"Jon!"

"I missed you. I need you. What we have is not wrong - it never was. I am not your brother-"

"I should not call you half brother - I was unkind." She turned to Sandor, looking dismayed by the blood. Before she could get to him, Jon reaches for her.

"Sansa, no, you were never unkind. You were stating what others told you but they were wrong. I am your cousin, your father is not mine by blood."

And she stopped, and Sansor could see on her eyes how torn she was between him, lying bleeding on the ground, and her beautiful cousin. He snorted - it should be an easy decision. The young man was more worthy than he. It was obvious Jon loved her and that she cared for him too. Mutely, he tried to let her know that he understood that she had to leave him. It was better this way. They should leave him to die, let the wild animals feast on his stinking flesh. But perhaps, he should ask for the gift of mercy, a quick, clean death.

Just as he suspected and expected, Sansa turned back to her beautiful cousin and held his hand. He saw Jon passionately kiss her, as she moaned appreciatively. Fucking, can't they finish him off? He did not want to see this - a better man loving his woman, a woman he knew he did not deserve. Are they gonna fuck? Closing his eyes, he tried to not sob but could not control himself as tears streamed down his bloody face.

He was weak. She deserved better. It was for the best. He told himself these things, a litany over and over again. But it hurt so much, more than the bloody blows he just received, more than even the burns on his face. 

He felt her cool fingers on his face, wiping away the blood and tears. 

"Oh, Sandor, can you breathe freely? Can you talk?"

There was a wet cloth that she used to wipe away the mess. The man brought her his water skein to wash Sandor's wounds. He did not understand why she was tending his wounds or why Jon was helping her.

"Why?"

"Thanks be to all the gods that Jon did not damage your brain! Jon thought you were hurting me and was trying to protect me. Everything will be fine."

Sandor heard her words but couldn't concentrate with her bare breasts inches from his face as she tended to him, checking for broken bones and torn ligaments. He got that the man wanted to protect her from him but did not understand why they were still here, with him. It was obvious that Sansa loved Jon and that Jon felt the same way towards her. Back home, the winner would take the woman and all the loser's belongings.

Trying to move his eyes from her stiff nipples, he looked into her eyes to see them still shining with love for him. Yet she had the same looks for Jon.

Seeing the question in his eyes, she blushed and haltingly answered, "I told you before I left a good man - that is Jon, known as the White Wolf. I loved him and love him still... But I love you too... I want to be with you both. And Jon agreed if you agree."

Incredulously Sandor looked at Jon who nodded, and he realized that with this arrangement, Jon could protect her from his demons. Sandor loved her so much - he realized that sharing her was better than her leaving him. She sacrificed much to be with him - he would do his best to honor her, to make her dreams come true, and to fulfill her every desires. When she reached for his hand, he squeezed it as her other hand held Jon's hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is for wz- I know you expect something smutty but I just couldn't write it (sorry!) - just could not fit it in this short, bit angsty drabble.


	56. Fondue, f*ck you! (Arianne and Robb, mention Oberyn and Margaery)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The original prompt was the first meeting of Margaery as Peggy and Robb as Steve but of course I decided to change the characters and the scene. 
> 
> Lol - that is why I was no bueno in the valar morekinks LJ meme (whatever little rules there were, I broke them - the renegade I am or as I like to think, rebel without a clue).
> 
> Arianne is Peggy but Robb still is Steve. Oberyn is Howard Stark and Margaery is Private Lorraine because I thought it was more fitting (with Nat Dormer playing both roles).

Closing her eyes, she tried to clear her mind, tried to quell her rage. But when she closed her eyes, she saw Captain Robb Stark kissing Private Margaery Tyrell, leaning into her and gently holding her hips. 

She was not jealous - why should she be? She was Agent Arianne Martell, one of the most one of the most prominent agents of the Strategic Scientific Reserve(SSR) during and after World War II. 

And he was like the rest, like all the soldiers, who have sweethearts at home and still have dalliances out here. But she groaned and knew that was not true - he had no one back home and he wasn't like all the rest of those back slapping boys. He was an honorable man, truly brave and self sacrificing. He was a true hero and pretty girls, like Margaery with her little rose lips, would flock to him. 

She did not know Margaery from the Maiden, and really had no reason to think she was a trollop. While there were rumors, there were rumors about every girl, including herself (many call her a Sand Snake but none to her face). Given the dangerous and volatile world they lived in, it made sense to forgo the typical courting practices - they may not see tomorrow. She could not begrudge that private for doing what she, herself, wanted to do. 

She was a bloody idiot!

Finally, she was able to calm her nerves after berating herself and reminding herself who she was - a more than capable agent, a Martell, and a woman who needed no man to complete her. 

When she turned the corner and saw Robb joking with Oberyn, her blood boiled. She knew that Robb confided to Oberyn the kissing incident which was confirmed with Oberyn's stupid grin.

'Fondue? Fuck you!' she thought as she shot five times into his shield and walked away as the men looked at her in shock.

=======

Even after all these years, whenever he feels lost, Robb would touch the five scuff marks on his shield, remembering her belief in him, her support of him and most importantly, her indomitable spirit and fire. He rose above himself, overcame his fears and insecurities, because she made him want to be a better man, one who is worthy of her, worthy to hold her in his arms as they dance to her favorite songs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i got on a crazy writing jag (not all good, just trying out different characters, practicing writing dialog (my weakness), describing the scene and mood with a bit more vitality and depth, playing with themes and tropes (sometimes just reveling it instead of turning it sideways and upside down and trying to stop with plot tricks). really i just want to finish this so i have no excuse for not finishing my other wip. sorry about this zippy spam as i am attempting to finish all the prompts tonight / tomorrow (lol).


	57. Teacher's pet (Sansa/Margaery)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Margaery/Sansa, pole dancing  
> Wanting to really work on her core strength, Sansa signs up for Margaery's one-on-one pole dancing class.

She knows that she is ridiculous. 

Her friends take turns laughing at her perfectionist ways. Her cleaning her apartment until it gleams right before her cleaning lady, Old Nan, comes (they instead reminisce about the North, their home). Her learning to speak Chinese semi-fluently and her deep immersion in Chinese history prior to a business trip to China (her cultural sensitivity resulted in a big win as all were impressed with her knowledge of Chinese societal norms). Her practicing her Mariah Carey and Barbra Streisand songs for weeks before doing Karoake with her coworkers (her renditions went viral on YouTube, landing her a side gig as a wedding and bar mitzvah singer). 

But this topped the cake, a cake in which a scantily clad girl jumps out of! In preparation for her first pole dancing class with Margaery, she had been watching many pole dancing videos but could not get some of the moves, the camera angles seemed wrong. Now she was sitting in the first row in a strip club or as crass Theon would say Titty Bar. Luckily Myranda was with her, with a wad of dollars. Sitting so close to the action, she marveled at the athleticism and the aesthetics of the acts. So beautiful and so moving, making her feel heated up. Turning around, Sansa saw Myranda felt the same way as she whispered for a performer to meet afterwards. But she drove home alone after making sure that Myranda was good.

So it was truly awkward, watching her instructor Margaery looking at her as if she was a tasty dish. 

"So you're not a professional?" Margaery asked.

"I'm not a prostitute!" Sansa squeaked, blushing.

They bursted out laughing! 

When they stopped giggling, Margaery said, "I meant that it looked like this is not your first time."

Margaery's eyes looked so warm and inviting, and she could not help but melt into them. She seemed kind.

"I have never done this before," she confessed, about her falling for another woman. She had such bad experiences with men, perhaps she should try with women. 

Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she realized to her embarrassment that her instructor was talking about pole dancing. She babbled, "I wanted to get the most out of this class and watched some videos and tried some moves."

She started to hyperventilate, and Margaery held her, rubbing her shoulders soothingly.

"It is fine - you are doing fine... You are so fine," Margaery smirked at the end.

Sansa's eyes widened as that last line seemed flirty. Perhaps she misread the smirk. As she worried, Margaery slowly kissed her. 

When they broke apart, panting, Margaery widely smiled and whispered, "It is my first time too, kissing a student. This cannot continue - it is not professional."

Sansa looked shocked. It was over before it truly began.

But then Margaery continued, "I am sorry I cannot be your teacher because I want to be your lover. And frankly, you don't need lessons."

And this time it was Sansa who initiated the kiss, making Margaery moan loudly and sigh that she needed no lessons in kissing - an A-plus kisser!


	58. Coming Home (JonxSansa) Olympics Pt 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon/Sansa, shavedown  
> She used to wax before and now it is their favorite ritual before her big swim meets!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 =>  
> <http://archiveofourown.org/works/7112899/chapters/17541790>
> 
> Parts 3, 4 and 5 follow Part 2.
> 
>  

It was different today. The silence was almost deafening. The soft sound of the blade against her legs was the only sound, with the exception of their breathing.

Jon was always quiet. In fact, when they grew up, her younger self thought her brother's best friend was almost mute. He was very thoughtful, wanting to make sure that he was doing the right things and saying the right things, as whenever he was in her presence, he was tongue tied and managed to fall down, even doing what she thought impossible such as falling up the stairs, or walk into a wall or door. And it got worse when they participated in swimming events with Robb and he playing water polo and Sansa swimming so many events - butterfly, backstroke, breast stroke and freestyle. He almost drowned when he saw her in her competition suit that was almost a second skin on her Amazonian body. But somehow, with her gentle and shy encouragement, they finally went out (to the local diner where they shared a strawberry milk shake) and been together ever since. They were each other's first - first kiss, first date, first boyfriend/girlfriend, first consensual sexual experiences (they have yet to go all the way).

And now if she made the Olympics team, Rio would be the first time they were apart for more than one week as he did not have the funds to accompany her. Jon could not compete against the college players - his smaller size worked against him. But he wanted her to go - it was her dream and frankly his as well (he was her number one fan).

His eyes widened when she blushingly removed her boy shorts. While he shaved her before meets, he only shaved her impossibly long pale legs while she shaved her arms. She was never fully naked with him, always had her panties on and rarely without her bra and top. She was not ready for more than kissing and petting and dry humping.

"We d-don't have to do this," he stuttered.

"But what if I want to?" she asked tremulously.

He could feel her fear, so palpable. He knew that this wasn't the time, the night before the start of the Olympic trials to have sex. He wanted their first time to be special, be all about them, perhaps with a lot of flower petals and candles and acoustic guitar playing in the background (he was even more romantic than her). But maybe he could relax her - try something that the guys told him about, something he wanted to try with her.

"Do you?" he quietly asked.

She shook her head and murmured something about the other girls and not wanting him to leave her because she was not ready. It was probably that damn Margaery making her feel small and immature.

"Sweetie, I will always be here. I want our first time to be special like our first kiss." He kissed her gently, sucking on her lower lip.

"But don't you want to, want more? I heard some guys um jacked off twice or even more a day."

Looking into her clear blue eyes so anxious, he smiled at her. "I do want to make love to you when we are both ready. You are worth the wait... But we can do something that can make you feel good. Yeah?"

She nodded shyly.

He kneeled down and started to butterfly kiss her smooth thighs as she giggled as his facial hair tickled. She stopped giggling and started sighing as he started to lick and suckle her. Her tiny hands clenched her bed sheets as he lavished attention to her as she moaned and writhed. He did not know what he was doing but focused on her sounds, her sighs, her quickening of her breath. Periodically, he would stop, uncertain if it was too much, and ask her whether she wanted more; and she would exasperatedly urged him on. He looked up and saw her shuddering with delight, her face flushed and her mouth adorably agape. When she reached her climax, he got up and held his boneless girlfriend as he jacked off with his fingers and her delicate fingers on his cock. He grunted, and she kissed him, tasting herself. They just held each other until she started to tear up.

"Sweetie, was that too much?" he asked in panic. Did he force her to do something she did not want to do?

"I just am going to miss you," Sansa confessed and pouted a bit.

"It is only a few weeks..."

"But then you are going to college. What if we don't go to the same college when I graduate next year? What if you find some girl who is more beautiful and who can do all the things I won't do?" she cried.

It was his fault - they did not talk about this. He was in denial, not wanting to think that they would be three hours apart (driving at or above the speed limit) for most of the year. There was simply no other girl for him but Sansa - he fell for her in grade school, and his feelings for her deepened every year, every month, every week, every day, every hour and it seemed every second.

"Sansa, I love you. I would transfer to whatever school you get admitted to or a college nearby. School matters more for you than me." He held her tight.

"I am just scared." She looked down, feeling horrible that she doubted him, his love.

"It is this unknown - which is scary, but exciting at the same time. Like your first day of school."

He chuckled and she did too as her first day jitters were legendary - Robb told everyone that his little sister was kidnapped by aliens prior to recounting tales of her preparing for the first day of school.

"And you always excel in everything," he added.

"But what happens if I don't?" she plaintively asked, "What if I let everyone down?"

Now he could see that she was now focusing on tomorrow, on the Olympics trials where she is a high school star champion competing against world class athletes. It was solely her times in the 200IM, 400IM and 200 butterfly, so close to the World Record times, not her non-school competition experience (nil), that got her an invite to the trials. Only the top two in each event would go to the Olympics. The competition field was deep in her IM events, including Olympic veterans and current world champions.

He placed his forehead against hers, trying to ground her and whispering, "You try your best - nothing else matters. You cannot let us down - we love you regardless. I love you."

"I love you too," she whispered.

The next morning, she was in the swim waiting room, listening to the mix of songs that Jon made for her - happy songs that he sheepishly admitted that he also liked (i.e., Dancing Queen, YMCA, Hey Micky, Milkshake, etc.). Remembering his words of love and encouragement the night before, she relaxed feeling the glow of his love. She realized that she had nothing to lose - she was loved!

Then she focused on her race - to not go too hard in the butterfly, her best stroke, to relax in backstroke (extend hopefully her lead) and maintain her rhythm, to overcome pain in the breaststroke and push hard (she had an almost unnatural ability to persevere, power through the pain), and to all out sprint at the last 100 free, the home stretch. She had to shave (smirking as she remembered last night) her best times in the backstroke and freestyle if she wanted to place in the top two.

As Sansa windmilled her long arms and stretched on the starting block, she recalled his eyes so full of love. She always pictured him at the end of the finish line, waiting for her to come home. And when she drilled the wall with a final burst of speed, she looked up to the top rafters and saw his happy face, yelling and waving his home made sign ("Go Sansa, go!"). Sansa smiled and snorted out water she accidentally gulped at the end - she knew that she already won.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> originally i was going to have them discuss security concerns of the games (gads, i hope cooler heads and good security prevail) but decided to omit that and just focus on the sweetness of first love.
> 
> in this story, jon is not related and is a best friend to robb. both robb and jon are a year older than sansa.
> 
> the ending was nebulous - she could have gotten her best time or won the race or placed last. it matters but it doesn't - you know what i mean.


	59. The Rose (Tywin/Margaery and Olenna)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tywin/Margaery with a little bit of past Tywin/Olenna (kind of where Tywin ends up marrying the granddaughter of the woman he once loved)

Seven hells, he was not a young man again; and this minx was insatiable! His little rose princess was touching the fine hairs on his chest and moving her hands slowly down, purring like a kitten. Closing his eyes, he grabbed her tiny hands and kissed them, trying to still them.

"Does the Lion need to sleep tonight?" she giggled.

Growling, he grabbed her close to him, pinning her arms.

"Do not poke a lion unless you want to be bitten," he grumbled. 

He knew that she wanted more - she was much like her grandmother. He recalled how Olenna would tease him so much that he thought he would explode. She was such a formidable lady.

"Tywin, Tywin," Margaery called out, trying to shake him from his reverie, his memories of his first love.

He shook his head. He was spending too much time thinking about the past, thinking what if he told her that he loved her, what if he stopped Olenna from marrying that arse. But she made her choice as did he.

"Are you thinking of her again?" she asked. Many would have thought that she was asking about Joanna, his beloved deceased wife, but they both knew that she was asking about her grandmother.

Tywin could not lie to her. He nodded sadly.

"Does she think of me?" He could not believe that he spoke aloud. He wanted to know that he wasn't the only one haunted by their relationship. He wanted to know that he wasn't just another of her quick fucks. He wanted to know that she suffered too. God dammit!

Margaery's eyes showed her hurt. And he felt regret - he did not want to hurt this rose princess, did not want her to feel pain, like his pain in his heart from the thorns of his true rose queen. He moved to kiss her, to apologize, but she pulled away.

With her hand on his chest, she whispered sadly, "Always."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is written for Justin Time.


	60. Promise (Jon and Sandor)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Westeros Men, "Lord of the Flies" AU  
> Any or many or all or few. Your choice (for example, Rickon, Tywin, Addam, Davos, Stannis, Robb, Smalljon, etc.)

He was hoarse from yelling at the bloody idiot! He would normally not waste his breath on Robb but for Sansa. Honor! Fuck honor!

'Promise me.' Those were her last words, begging to keep her brothers safe.

Aye, he would promise her the world, the sweetest girl. But the fool boy would not be swayed - he said it was a parley, whatever the fuck that meant. No weapons, come in peace to negotiate the return of that chubby boy, Sam whom Ramsey named Piggie because he squealed a lot. He did not have the same gift of sight as her brother Bran - he knew that poor boy was a goner. Bran tried to reason with his oldest brother but for naught. Thankfully, Robb agreed that Hodor and his littlest brothers would stay behind.

He knew of Jon's desire to go with his brother - Sam was his friend, more than just a friend he heard many whispered. But hearing her sweet words admonishing him to try, he tugged at the boy's arm.

"What?" Jon spitted, not understanding why he was such an arse, why was he with them when all he did was yell at them at exasperation, why his sister cared for the brute.

"Sam is gonna die. You guys are walking into a trap."

"You are a coward!"

"Look at me. Do you think I am scared of anything?" He shouted at the boy, pushing back his hair to show his scars.

He had to give it to the boy who didn't back off although his face was twisted in disgust. Jon reminded him of Sansa, so pretty, pretty hair and a spine of steel, so much stronger than what most thought of them. While Sansa was stubborn, she would listen and hear him out.

"Ramsay is a monster - he is luring you guys to your deaths. Just hold back and bring your weapons. If things go ape shite, we could try to rescue your brother and his friends. And if it goes well, there is no harm."

Hodor brought Bran to him who quietly pled with Jon to listen to Sandor. And he reluctantly did. 

But it was worst than what Sandor could imagined. Sam was gutted and the other boys fell into a pit filled with dry tinder where fire sticks were thrown in, screaming as they were burning (he had to give them mercy, quickly shooting each boy, before he turned his rage on Ramsey's gang). Sandor saved most of her brothers, but could not save their innocence. 

Both he and Jon returned, wet with blood which was not theirs, which Jon complained he could never wash off. Jon held onto the broken conch shell, like the way Sandor held on her faded blue ribbon.

Sandor tried to tell himself that he held Jon at night because he was trying to help him fight the darkness in his head, to keep at bay the shame and guilt. Fuck, but he knew that he clung to Jon because he could not forget the horror and needed comfort himself. It hurt so much to live - he wanted to be with her forever. But they needed to live, to care for and protect the true innocents - Hodor, Bran and Rickon. 

He promised.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Backstory - plane of northerners went down (Sandor is a northerner and the boyfriend of Sansa). Everyone died (including Sansa who was holding Arya's dead body before succumbing to death) but the boys who sat at the back of the plane. They never get rescued.


	61. True Love's Kiss (Sansa and Arya)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon/Sansa, Enchanted (the movie)  
> Banished by an evil queen, Princess Sansa from a fairy-tale magical world lands onto Jon, a young district attorney, in modern Manhattan, where magic is lacking.

"True love's kiss? A kiss from a true love? That is what saves the princess?" asked Arya, Jon's little sister incredulously.

Sansa nodded emphatically. "Yes, only true love can save her."

"Bull shit!!! She should be able to save herself. And then she can kiss as many guys she wants, even the stupid guys!"

"Like Gendry?" Sansa asked with a twinkle in her blue eyes.

"Shut up!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to write a full story on this one for the jonxsansa remix but I got nothing (bows head in apology).


	62. Blood thicker than oil? (Rhaenys, Aegon and Elia)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhaegar and Lyanna and Elia (ex), Dynasty AU  
> Rhaegar = Blake  
> Lyanna = Krystle (new wife)  
> Elia = Alexis (Blake's ex)  
> Rhaenys = Fallon (stepdaughter)  
> Aegon = Steve (stepson)  
> Arthur Dayne = Michael (chauffeur and one of Fallon's lovers)  
> Robert = Matthew (Blake's competitor and Krystle's ex)  
> Cersei = Claudia (Matthew's fragile and unhappy wife)  
> Any family angst or Elia/Lyanna b*tchfight or jealousy or forbidden love - your choice. Multiple fills appreciated!

After the party ended, Aegon and Rhaenys recapped the evening, each telling the other what they saw and heard.

They sniped about the fashion, laughing at the absolutely horrid dress that Cersei, a white bandage dress that was cutting edge a year ago but looked extremely dated today. Being pale and too angular, she looked like a mummy whereas Rhaenys, with her honey gold tan, would have worked the dress with her curves. Both rolled their eyes as that pathetic woman had eyes for their father, Rhaegar. Rhaenys sniffed that their father had much better taste than than her, sloppy seconds at best, and her brother cattily agreed. 

And Cousin Stannis looked ridiculous, standing stiffly and grinding his teeth. Rhaegar told them that he was the Baratheon brother that they should be worried about, the one truly running Baratheon Oil, not the drunk buffoon Robert, Cersei's husband. They scoffed - any man who was not comfortable in his own skin is not one to worry about. It was obvious that he needed a good fuck - Rhaenys would call on Melisandre whose bad pussy would neutralize him. They both snickered about the rival company's unfortunate ticker symbol, BO. 

She thought that the one rival company that could be a problem was Stark Enterprise, a clean energy company. But her father laughed at their business model, calling Ned Stark, although his new brother in law, a man ripe for fleecing, too trusting and fucking honorable. But because of Lyanna, Rhaegar invested in Stark Enterprise to obtain a ten percent stake. Rhaenys decided to double to twenty percent stake and to obtain a seat on the board - she was convinced that Big Oil could not last. Aegon agreed that they should hedge their bets - it was a good strategic investment.

They were all in agreement about the other companies and the men who ran them. Useless - the bunch of them! She loved her brother who mused that it might be different if a woman ran them. Aegon thought she should be the successor of their family business, not he. Although intelligent and insightful, her brother lacked the killer instinct. He simply had too much empathy.

Sometimes, she wondered if they were each born in the wrong bodies (even though she preferred men over women like her brother). But it mattered naught - she would always be there for her brother and would do whatever it takes for him and the Company. She knew that there were rumors about her brother and his sexual preferences. But she knew those rumors would never be proven true - her brother was discrete. When he confessed to her, she knew that that did not change her feelings toward him, other than making her more protective of him, if anything. In Westeros, men were manly men - almost all had guns.

"Why do you hate her?" Aegon asked.

"She is a bitch," she automatically responded.

"You don't know which woman I am referring   
to, don't you?" he asked his sister.

"All the women at the party are bitches," she replied.

"You were at the party," he cheekily said.

"Your point?" They both snorted at her question.

"Seriously, I meant our mother," he said.

"She is not our mother - she lost that right when she cheated on our father and left us when we were kids." 

She turned her back to her brother - she did not want to see the hope in his eyes, knowing that Elia would not only disappoint him, but would crush his spirits. She loved Aegon but worried about the softness in his heart. When they were growing up, she shielded him from everything, all the bull shit and the meanness and the sheer pettiness, pretty much everything that was Elia who tried to take control of her children's shares in the company and who publicly threatened to destroy their father. Rhaenys was always her father's daughter, and his enemies were hers.

Her brother's arms reached out and hugged her tightly. She felt wetness of his tears on her back.

"Rhaenys, you would always be my mother. I am sorry."

She turned immediately around and hugged him back, wiping his tears. She kissed him and comforted him, vowing to herself that she would have to get Arthur, their chauffeur and her lover, to scare Elia, to scare her away from her fragile brother. She had to be neutralized.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is very ooc for elia and pretty much everyone in this drabble. i don't know what i was thinking when i wrote the prompt (?????).


	63. Play on, Playa (Petyr vs. all - mention of Jon)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon Snow/Any, "Joe Schmo" (TV) or "The Truman Show" (movie)  
> Everyone is in on the secret by Jon who knows nothing.

The ratings for "Jon Snow, Jon Schmo" was over the top! It was both the highest viewed show in prime time, a hit with teens and young adults, the Goldilocks zone for advertisers, and the show with the lowest cost (the large cast was paid peanuts - slightly higher than the minimum scale rates). Yet there was an emergency meeting with almost all the actors, with the exception of Ramsay, threatening to quit.

Petyr, the producer, expected such from the soft hearts, Sam and Sansa, well-beloved by their loyal audience who shipped the two so hard (many sent cards with hearts with S & S on them and video montages with Sam looking lovingly into Sansa's clear blue eyes). Although he knew Sansa had body image issues and Sam was extremely shy around pretty girls, he made sure that in every episode, Sansa was wearing a bikini top and her round ass was inches from Sam's red cherubic face, like in yesterday's episode where the guys had to eat sushi from the girls' bikini clad bodies. He knew that he would be able to convince the two to back down - they were gullible and easily controlled. He would promise them that the reveal would be handled sensitively and off camera. They would be absolute fools to believe him but yet he knew that they would.

But he was amazed that the veterans, Sandor and Olenna, would intervene - they knew it was show business and that the best ratings were when something sensational and/or horrific happened (exhibit A - The Kardashians). Watching Jon Snow adorably fumbling in this show with people he mostly befriended was like a car crash waiting to happen. These two would be more difficult to handle - threats only work if they were backed with action. He would have to dig up dirt on the two - he was pretty sure that Sandor dabbled in porn before and maybe Olenna too.

And, of course, the others - Bran, Jeyne, Margaery, Gendry, and Myrcella - were like sheep and followed the others to his spacious office.

Sandor roared, "Fuck this shit! This is a good man, and I cannot stand that we are making him an object of ridicule every night, making everyone snicker at how gullible and kind he is!"

"The audience are not laughing at him - they are laughing with him," he tried to explain.

"Petyr, do not mistake us for the dumb girls you manage to trick into your bed. We are not stupid. He does not know the joke as the joke is on him," Olenna acidly hissed. She affectionately looked at Sansa, a sweet girl who was able to foil Petyr's attempts to seduce her.

With her blue eyes tearing, Sansa cried, "I just don't think we should be lying to him anymore. He is a good friend to many of us - I just don't want him to be hurt and he would be when he finds out. He would think we are not true friends - he is right, true friends would not lie to him."

She broke down and cried. Sam hugged her, and Jeyne did too. And the others looked guilty and ashamed.

He had to stop this before it escalated with a mass exodus. Next week was ratings week - he needed to keep them for just one more week.

"Look, I am not saying it right-" 

Sam surprisingly interrupted him. "You mean that you are not spinning it right - you are a snake, a fake, and a liar!"

The others shouted their agreement.

"Look - the audience loves this show because Jon is strong, brave and gentle. It would not work if he were an arse. The audience loves him - they are not laughing at him, they are empathizing with him. He is the Everyman - they connect with him," Petyr spoke quickly as he saw their faces darkened.

"OK, ok, ok - I was going to wait to announce this next week but I was given the approval to double your salaries."

Olenna scowled and muttered to the girls that with the raise, they were still paid less than actors in lower rated shows. He hated that know-it-all harpie!

"I misspoke, I meant triple... [he saw Olenna still narrow her eyes] quadruple your salary. Think about it before you make your hasty decision. Remember acting is a tough business - some may not want to hire actors who quit before the show is over." 

The gang left in a huff with Sansa still crying hysterically and Olenna and Sandor giving him evil eyes. 

Once the door slammed, the gang high fived and hugged Jon Snow, whose idea it was. It worked - they played the Player!


	64. Maneater (Tormund & Margaery)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Margaery x Any, Date auction  
> As the organizer of the popular date (and maybe more) auction with Westeros most eligible bachelors, Margaery has all the odds stacked for her as she determines the "random" ordering of the "mystery" men. Which man is she going to raise her paddle for tonight?????

The girls in his hood laughed at him, saying that Margaery wanted only to fuck him. 'Hell yeah!' he thought.

That she thought of him as a piece of meat. 'Does the Rose Princess bite?' 

That he was stupid to think she truly wanted him. 'But why did she plunk down 20 Gs?' 

Every word the girls spoke made him even more excited for the date she bidded for and won. He heard the girls from the other side of town looked like ladies but were true wildlings in the sheets. Theon told him that - but perhaps he needed to discount his words as that boy was full of shite. Yet he could not wait!

The Karstark boys cajoled him to participate in the date auction, saying maybe he could win a date with a lovely lady like Sansa, his biggest crush but alas his best friend's gal. He initially thought it was a joke when he saw the names of the other prize dates - wealthy widow Tywin Lannister, Addam Marbrand, Edmure Tully, Willas Tyrell, Robert Stark, and Blackfish Tully. They were all men from the wealthiest families in town. He did not expect any bid, other than the minimum bid - he got Sansa to promise to bid that with the money he gave her, even though he knew Sandor would kill him if she bidded for him. 

Tormund was shocked when the little rose princess who organized the event whispered, "Tag, you're it!"

He was still in a daze when he, dressed in kilt in his family's tartan, got the highest bid that night and from Margaery. Even more surprised when she lightly padded his arse with her little paddle and leeringly whispered whether it was true that he did not wear any underwear. She leeringly looked him up and down and whispered whether the carpet matched the drapes.

Shaking his head at the memory, Tormund thought he should perhaps manscape a bit - perhaps ask his sister to shave his back. His prior girls got squicked about that but he was a beast and beasts were hairy. He was all man!

Before he got ready, he got a call from Sansa saying to call Sandor and her if he needed anything, any excuse to leave the date early, or a ride home. She warned him that Margaery was a mean girl in high school, who acted nice but truly wasn't - that she was a bitch! That call disturbed him. Not matter how delusional he was, Tormund knew that the sweet redhead was not jealous as she and Sandor were the Real Deal! Sansa rarely cursed even though Sandor could sometimes be a bit dense and harsh (although his rough edges have totally softened since he met her). 

Tormund shook his head at that sweet girl, her concern. He knew that he was essentially a man whore that night but the girl was hot! He wasn't going to get hurt. It was going to be fun!

The limo picked him up. As their date progressed, the minx placed her tiny foot on his crotch which made it very difficult for him to eat or talk or think. And he was really hungry - he was a big man. She did not seem to care what he thought or even interrupted him before he could tell her his great jokes, the ones everyone laughed at. As the date progressed, he noticed that she was not so pretty after all. Her blue eyes were spiteful. Her rose shaped mouth spewed garbage. She was quite mean, especially dismissive of Sansa, calling her an airhead. He protested but she then got up and got the check, tugging him to the limo because she wasn't there for small talk, she wanted action, fast and dirty. 

He stiffened when she ripped off his clothes, his nicest shirt, in the limo. She slapped him, scratched him, spanked him, and pulled his long red locks. He always thought it would be exciting to be ravaged by a sexy woman and be dominated but it felt wrong. This was not sexy but actually quite demeaning!

Pushing her back, he protested, "No, um, I am not feeling it. I thought I would be OK with this but naw, this is not me."

Knocking at the divider that separated them from the driver, he motioned to the driver that he wanted out. Pulling up his pants, he jumped out and slammed the door.

Watching the limo speed away, he called Sansa but could speak. 

"Tormund? Tormund?... Sandor, it is Torr..." she said. He heard her whispering worriedly with Sandor who was growling and took the phone from her.

"T - where you at?" he growled.

"Corner of 5th and Vine." 

He hung up and looked down at himself, scratched bloody, shirtless and shoeless. He was a fucking mess!

Tormund thought about walking home but knew they would find him. As he waited, he closed his eyes and remembered all the warnings that he scoffed at. He felt so stupid.

Then he felt being enveloped by his friends, smelling Sandor's cologne and her soft body pressed against his. They eased him into the backseat where he laid down with his head on Sansa's lap - he didn't want anyone to see him, to know what happened. But instead of taking him home, they took him to Sandor's place. And they were there for him - Sansa quietly holding his hand and Sandor threw him an icy brew as they all watched Kill Bill until he fell asleep.

When he left the next day, wearing Sandor's T, sweats and flip flops, Sansa whispered that she was there if he wanted to talk and kissed his cheek. He peeked at Sandor, worried that he would tear him a new one.

But instead Sandor lifted his head, looked in the eyes, and nodded.

"Shame is all hers. Her loss. Your gain."

Tormund smiled slowly - it was true!


	65. Little Red Corvette (Robb/Margaery)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Margaery x Robb, Footloose AU  
> A big city teenage girl moves to a small town where rock music has been banned, and her rebellious spirit shakes up the heart of a young preacher's son.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just love Prince and his music! 
> 
> The words in italics are from Prince's masterpiece Little Red Corvette.

His hands were sweating. He should go home, eat dinner with his perfect family - his father who was a preacher, his devout mother, his ladylike sister, gentle Bran and the naughty heathens that were his youngest brother Rickon and sister Arya.

But he could not forget her long fingers tipped with red fingernails pressing a CD against his chest or her words "I want to ride with you... _Baby, have you got enough gas_?" All day he listened to the song on loop with his head phones on, imaging her tight ass barely covered by her short denim skirt. He knew the invitation in her eyes and understood the meaning behind her words, the lyrics of the song.

She was much too fast! And he always followed the rules - even little Sansa sowed her oats with her tattooed beau Sandor (although it seemed that instead of him corrupting her, she "converted" him as he ended being her oversized lap dog). Robb was never even tardy to class. Yet here he was, waiting at look out point and lying to his parents that he was doing a school project with Theon (who did a mean impersonation of his mum Alannys when his mum called).

Feeling the condom that Theon gave him with a snicker and a knowing grin, he started to turn away and get back to his car when her arms held him, her soft body pressed against his back.

"Sorry to keep you waiting but I promise you that I am worth the wait," she purred.

He groaned as he watched her hands move slowly down his torso. He pinned them against his stomach and turned around to see her smiling and somewhat surprised face.

"I want to... um court you first."

She giggled and asked incredulously, "And that is why you agree to meet me here?"

"I'm serious - I think we should get to know each other. What do you like to do?" he asked. He did not want to be merely one of the _jockeys who were there before_ him.

Tilting her head, she truly smiled. "You are truly a magical unicorn, aren't you sweet Robb? I love to dance - do you dance?"

He looked down and blushed. "Um, no..." He wanted to explain why but was embarrassed to say that the town elders, including his parents, banned dancing and drinking as they led to premarital sex, sexually transmitted diseases and disrespectful behaviors.

"Let me teach you," she said. "Watch me and mimic my movements." She turned to her car, and that song that haunted him played.

It was almost like a strange game of Follow the Leader with him trying to match her sharp movements, those pelvic thrusts and hip checks, as well as her grinds and her isolations. It was strange that when the song played, he and she were dancing so hard that they became part of the song, the driving beat of the song matching the beat of their hearts. They were in ecstasy and were panting when the last notes were played.

With her left eyebrow delicately lifted, she asked, "So do you want to know more of me?"

Her hand was open, and he automatically reached for it, feeling himself pulled into her madness and into her little red corvette.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did not give up - I will finish all my prompts!!! Fight!!! Fight!!!!


	66. What happens in (Myrcella and Robb)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robb, Jon, Theon and Jory (?), The Hangover AU  
> Four Northern boys celebrating in Vegas Robb's upcoming nuptials to Myrcella - what could go wrong????? Multiple fills with different escapades welcome and appreciated!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> instead of watching the hangover, i was watching a lot of pulp fiction for my submission for jonxsansa remix. the words in italics were from that movie.

It was a tradition - even after seven years - for the Northern Boys to meet and reminisce about their escapades in Lys. Before they would imbibe on beer and hard liquor but now, it was a genteel wine and cheese spread. They were no longer boys.

Theon lost a tooth and barely escaped with his life (and his balls) but learned a lot of life lessons, including not to slip his friends any drugs, especially if he had no clue what the drugs were.

Painfully shy Sam left an abusive relationship and wed outspoken Gilly, a Vegas bar girl with a cute baby son who was nicknamed Waldo for the obvious reasons. They brought out the best in each other.

Hodor found his true calling as an exotic male dancer. He had unnatural flexibility and his signature move was the Van Damme split / leg plant that he did to a double door frame as the light goes down the stage (which he sometimes did upside down).

And Robb was so happy that Myrcella, his wife, then his fiance, was so forgiving even though he looked a red peeling mess, with his sun burned skin matching his bright red hair, and still married him (but no wedding pictures) in the end. He knew that she was the one, the real deal - she was not angry, mainly relieved that he was mostly fine. There were no questions - no judgment, just acceptance.

Sweet Myrcy was his light, a beacon for him, helping him navigate through the often choppy waters of life, keeping him away from the hidden rocks. From that night/day, he vowed to do better and do right by her.

While there were a lot of funny moments to recount (only funny now because time has passed), there were still some freaky episodes that made them all pale and glad to be alive, especially Theon who was so shaken that he dropped his cheese, which, of course, fell underneath the sofa. When they lifted up the sofa to find the cheese, they found many things - socks that were missing their pair, loose change, a cell phone that he thought was lost for good, and a small memory stick that Robb immediately pocketed without the guys noticing.

It felt like it was burning a hole in his pocket. But he somehow knew whatever was in it, it was better that he did not see. And he waited for Myrcy who was out with her girls and told him that she would be home late.

It was past two when she traipsed in, looking a bit bleary but a lot happy. She quickly brushed and wiped off her makeup and got ready for bed. As she sank down under their comforter in one of his old college T, he whispered, "Baby."

She held back a scream and almost slid off the bed. And they both laughed. Myrcella giggled and planted a wet one in a general vicinity if his face, getting his ear.

"You did not have to wait up... Oh, oh, oh, perhaps you want to play tonight," she sighed happily, nuzzling him.

Myrcy was always a cuddly drunk. He smiled and said, _"I love you, Pumpkin._ " He kissed her forehead and softly held her, watching her breath slow down and just before she started to slightly snore, she whispered sleepily, " _I love you, honey bunny."_

Before he fell asleep, he thought that the memory stick did not truly matter. He would get rid of it.

When he awoke, he saw a stricken face, with tears coming down her face. The damn stick was in her shaking hands.

"We thought it was lost... I am so sorry... I," she hiccuping said.

Seeing her sad and guilty eyes and knowing that he and his boys probably did something even worse (Father Luwin could not even look him in the eyes for many years after his confession), he gently interrupted, "There is naught to forgive. Whatever happens in Lys, stays in Lys."

He got up and chucked it in the trash.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> at last - it is done! fist pumps! it ended with bit of a whimper but it proved to me that i will always finish what i start. i cannot give up....


	67. Relationship Goals (Arya, Jon/Sansa) - Olympics AU Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Olympics AU
> 
> continuation of coming home (Part I)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming Home (Part I) => <http://archiveofourown.org/works/7112899/chapters/17225494>

Arya wanted to hate her older sister so much, like the way she thought she did before everything changed. But she could not.

Sansa was America's sweetheart - tall, beautiful, auburn haired, blue-eyed glamazon who was as kind and smart as she was beautiful. She remembered all of her early teen years (which frankly was not long ago at all) of resentment about how unfair life was, that all the best gifts were given to her sister and seemingly none to her. It was like how the Valar graced the elves who were more beautiful, taller (she was barely taller than eight year old Rickon), stronger, wiser, had keener eyesight and hearing, had magical powers, and immortal in comparison to humans, whose mortality was allegedly a gift. Sansa was like fucking Arwen (or even Luthien) while she was not even Eowyn.

So Arya was ashamed to admit that she lorded over her sister the fact that she got along so much better with all of their brothers who treated her like a bro, with the exception of Bran, and with their father. She remembered now with chagrin teasing her behind her back with her brothers, calling her a prissy know-it-all with Bran weakly protesting that she was being unfair and the others laughing. What an ass she was!

She never realized how much work and effort Sansa put in everything she did, practicing into the wee hours of the night until everything was perfect, to her impossibly high standards. Shaking her head sadly, she recalled crowing when Sansa got a C on a calculus midterm as her sister cried.

It was Jon, one of her closest friends and a true bro, who finally called her out, called her an ass! He told her that she hurt her sister's feelings - he saw Sansa overhearing her snide remarks and everyone's laughter and running away crying. She was a bully like the blond shit Joffrey fucking Lannister who preyed on her friends Hotpie and Mycah. Jon made her realize that her sister truly did nothing wrong, did not deserve her ridicule. Sansa never actually called Horseface (her friend Jeyne did in defense and support of Sansa), and Sansa rightfully was upset when Arya instigated fights, calling her names or destroying her things.

Arya did not want to be that person. And she was amazed that her sister forgave her so quickly. She remembered asking why? Sansa simply replied that she loved her and wished for her when their mother was pregnant with her - she wanted a little sister.

When Sansa won all the events she entered in the trials - 200 IM, 400 IM and 200 butterfly, beating her best times and getting a US record in the butterfly, her favorite stroke, Arya tried so hard to not be jealous of all of the attention Sansa garnered while it seemed no one noticed Arya got an alternate spot on the women's fencing team (women saber), which was more than she expected. Sansa was in the local, national and international news, and every advertiser wanted her to be in their ads.

Arya thought she succeeded in hiding her resentment as she holed up in her messy room, downing a tub of chunky monkey as the song Brass Monkey was blaring. But her sister and her boyfriend Jon (traitor) knew, they both came and sandwich hugged her. Sansa made a tiny mocha cake of a fencer which she said would go well with the ice scream (Sansa smirked as she said that as Jon sickening kissed her, muttering that he always screams for her - yuck!). They were both so happy for her! As an alternate, Arya would go to the Olympics and train with the world's best, stay in the village and have a lot of fun.

While the green eyed monster would sometimes make an unfortunate appearance or two, it had been absent especially after their P&G ad, which showed both Stark parents driving their young daughters to their practices, cute reenactments of their younger selves with a young child lightly stabbing her father in the ass and another child making an extra lap and crying because she thought she lost even though she lapped many of her competitors, and their happy faces when they both made their teams with Sansa whispering how proud she was of Arya's achievements, the youngest fencing alternate ever in the US Olympics team. When she cried in the ad, there was no acting. And like always, her sister covered her, hiding her snotty and teary face from the camera.

And because of the ad, their entire family and their friends (including Gendry and of course, Jon) could go to the games in style. She had on her phone the video she shot of Jon hearing the news that he was going to Rio, his mouth agape, opening and closing like a puffer fish, his glasses fogging up as he was crying and hugging Sansa, who, damn her, even cried prettily. They knew her threat of posting it on her facebook was just an empty threat. Arya knew that she should delete it, but it always made her heart flutter when she watched it (even after the thousandth time) - they were her relationship goals!


	68. Queen (JonxSansa, Cersei, and Stannis) - Olympics Pt. 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Before the games start, Sansa, Jon and friends enjoy the Brazilian music.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part of Coming Home series  
>  <http://archiveofourown.org/works/7112899/chapters/17225494>
> 
>  
> 
>  

It was way past her bedtime but she felt so good. The lychee Caipirinha was divine, truly ambrosia, the sweet nectar of the gods. She sighed deeply as she licked the drops on her lower lip as she watched Jon's grey eyes darkened. He was so sexy - such a sexy beast. She so wanted to touch his hair, run her fingers through his soft curls.

But when the drums beat to the quick samba rhythm, whistles blowing, double cowbells clanging, she could not stop dancing. Her legs were moving with the hypnotic beats as her hips swiveled, her torso undulated, her shoulders shaking, her arms waved to the syncopated beats. She strutted around and ground her body against Jon's hard body as she heard cheers and whistles as well as cursing from her brothers and their friends who protectively surrounded her.

In front of her was a goddess, the Maiden come to life. The honey skinned goddess wore a huge white feather headdress that was over five feet wide and just as tall. But instead of being dwarfed by the headdress that fluttered and waved, the goddess totally owned it. It became an extension of her body, that was barely covered by a white beaded bralet and a bejeweled g-string, and moved with every undulation. Sansa had to bow to the goddess, the Queen of Carnival. But when she gracefully approached the queen and curtseyed down low, the Queen pulled her up and grabbed her hands and together they did voltas and samba side steps. At the end, they performed the rhumba to the cheers of the crowd! 

The next day her dancing exploits were in the news and the internet with pictures and videos of her and the beautiful reigning Queen of Carnival dancing a gentle and sweet rhumba. But instead of promoting outrage at her underaged drunk antics, the general public (with the exception of the "moral outrage" minority) and especially the Brazilians were struck by her complete immersion with the Brazilian culture, her respect for the Queen of Carnival and her hot passionate dancing, with her long red locks flowing like flames. Fire and ice they called her, the Alaskan snow princess with fire in her blood.

Unfortunately, her parents and the swim head coach, Stannis Baratheon, did not feel the same. The disappointment in her parents' eyes and the sad shake of Ned's head broke her heart as Catelyn told her that she was a role model for so many teen girls and that she let them all down. The coach's disgust was almost tangible as he said that everyone is required to meet curfew, even America's sweetheart. It did not matter that she had only a few sips nor that today was the official start of the US team swim practice (and the official start of the curfew) nor the fact that she had her brothers and her boyfriend with her at all times that night.

Normally she would hold her tongue and apologize to the coach privately. But she had to speak out.

"Coach Baratheon, my name is Sansa Stark... and I appreciate it if you used my name. And I do not expect or want any special treatment. Once curfew officially starts, I will not break it."

Stannis' eyes widened as he did not expect to see her icy blue eyes flashing. He underestimated her, thinking she was a fluke (how could the state of Alaska produce a world class swimmer?) and a silly chit at that. She earned his respect for speaking out but he wanted to see if she would earn his respect in the pool, where it mattered the most. After that first day of practice, he realized that she was the complete swimming package - adept in all strokes, perfect technique, and an exceptionally hard worker. Stannis admitted that he was wrong about Sansa - that behind her seemingly sweet porcelain doll facade was a woman with a steely backbone and extremely strong and long ivory limbs. He was not surprised when the team nominated her as one of the co-captains for the team especially after hearing her in her only pre-meet interviews explaining what happened with the Queen of the Carnival.

It was the practice off day, and he was a bit surprised that almost all members of the team, including the coaches and doctors, were huddled in the team meeting room to see that interview on the large screen TV. The tiny room was hushed as they waited for Cersei Lannister's introduction of poised Sansa as images of that night flashed on the screen with Sansa in a flowery summer dress was twirling and culminating in her duet with the Queen.

"Sansa, so I see that you thoroughly enjoyed Brazil and Brazilian women."

"Cersei, thank you for meeting with me and yes, the Brazilian people, their music and dancing, are so friendly and beautiful. I greatly respect their culture."

"And you exalted in the freedom, the sexual excess, the underaged drinking, grinding against men and women - the drinking of Caipirinha, the sexy samba dancing with strangers..."

"I want to stop you there. I want to clear up some rumors. Firstly, I was not drinking heavily - I had only a few sips of Caipirinha which was delicious, by the way. And I did not break any laws - under the laws of Brazil, the legal drinking age is eighteen and I turned eighteen last month. I know many of my peers who had a sip or two or a flute or two of champagne at weddings and or a glass or two of beer in other celebrations. And I only danced with my boyfriend, surrounded by my brothers, and with the Queen of Carnival... Yes, I enjoyed the energy, the spirit of the Brazilian people, and their music made me dance!"

"But you are America's sweetheart and you were grinding your body against a tiny bikini clad woman - how would you respond to the angry mothers and fathers who decried your behavior that night, how you are corrupting their young daughters with your lesbian display?"

"While I am honored that many view my accomplishments in the swimming pool and my work ethics as commendable, I want to take this moment to say that there should be no shame in celebrating the female body, in expressing yourself without being called slutty or whorish. The reason why I dress and act the way I do has nothing to do with a belief that my behavior last night was wrong or the way many young people act was wrong. I do not believe that I corrupted anyone - I felt like I was having fun, enjoying the culture of Brazil, and paying homage to the Queen of Carnival."

"But you understand why people feel like you tricked them, pretending to be a good girl when you really are a sexually loose party girl?"

"I am a teenage girl. And while I want to believe I am a good person and try really hard to be that person my parents, my friends and that I am proud of, I am a human being who makes mistakes. I am not perfect but I will not apologize for that night. Here is why - there is nothing wrong about two girls or two women dancing, there is nothing wrong with dancing with your boyfriend, there is nothing wrong with drinking a bit, there is nothing wrong about wearing a summer dress or a bikini, there is nothing wrong about having a bit of fun on a Saturday night. What is wrong is this condemnation of me, my parents and my upbringing, and especially all girls and women who do what I did that night. This slut shaming - that has to stop!"

Sansa stood up, removed her microphone, and left the set with her head held high. The camera followed her as her family and her boyfriend hugged her and they all walked out of the studio.

His team erupted with cheers! As a single father of a young daughter, Stannis felt so proud of her, standing up for herself and not letting others shame her. Sansa made him rethink of his perceptions and bias about women he did not even realize he had. Many others felt the same way as they bombarded the internet with tweets and messages supporting her.

Later than night, Jon and Sansa laid down on his single bed, just cuddling and giggling at Jon's wickedly funny impression of Cersei, who everyone knew was the worst hypocrite.

"Jon, I have to get back to the Village. I promised Coach B that I would not break curfew." She slowly raised herself up and grabbed her shoes.

"I will take you back... um, you know, I did not mind you dancing with the Queen of Carnival," he blushingly muttered.

"I will let her know but remember, I do not share," Sansa teased. 

And Jon was smiled wryly - he knew and had the markings on his neck to prove it!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was a bit dismayed at the sexism of the games and wrote this.


	69. Speed (JonxSansa) - Olympics Pt 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More Olympics AU - Angsty Jon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part of Coming Home series  
> <http://archiveofourown.org/works/7112899/chapters/17225494>

"She would be even better without you, you know. You are holding her back from her full potential."

Those words from the assistant coach, Massey, while they were watching Sansa practice and destroy the field, men and women alike, haunted him. At first, he scoffed as the man was a known Lothario, preying on young female swimmers and wanting to get into their swim suits. He just wanted Jon out of the way so he could have his way with Sansa. 

But then Jon realized maybe he was right. Unlike many of the swimmers, she normally had a relatively short practice schedule with two days pretty much off (Sunday and Tuesday as it was his day off from the shop) even right before the trials. The schools and colleges they talked about applying were mainly schools in Alaska and the North, schools with good environmental sciences programs that they were interested in and not necessarily the ones with the best swimming programs. When they ate lunch with some of the swimmers, he saw how built they all were - such broad muscular shoulders, cut arms, and strong legs - in comparison to her lean and toned body, that was deceptively strong. Jon saw them snickering when he opened her favorite Fiji bottled water for her while she good-naturedly huffed back that they were just jealous. She joined her teammates on three of the four strength/weights sessions for the week but asked leave on the fourth, saying everything hurts and aches, even her eyeballs.

After a practice, Jon massaged her as she moaned and sighed with pleasure when his hands kneaded out the tension in her shoulders and neck and giggling when he grabbed her ass, lightly swatting him away. But pinning her arms with one hand, he was adamant that her butt muscles were also loosened - he remembered his horror when she cramped during one of her early high school meets, yet still finishing in the top three.

Giggling, she teased, "You like this, don't you? You pinning me down, me so helpless underneath you."

He did not answer, still thinking about Massey's words. Jon did not want to be the one who stopped her star from rising. 

"Jon, I was just teasing." 

Using her long legs as giant pincers, she flipped him over and sat delicately on his tummy, putting most of her weight on her knees. Peering into his sad eyes, she asked, "Jon, what's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong. I was just thinking," he replied. 

"Noooo," she wailed. "The last time you were just thinking, you thought Tormund was trying to steal me away from you, and you were pouting, very cute by the way, and brooding for weeks, wearing all black... wait you always did that... and listening to Morrisey and looking glummerer than ever. Whatever you are thinking, you are wrong! You know nothing, Jon Snow."

"You don't even know what I am thinking - how could you say that?" he asked incredulously.

"I know you and you worry over nothing. Robb told me that you purchased over five corsages for prom because you could not decide which one to get for me, worried that it would clash with my dress."

He recalled that day in the flower shop when he drove poor Margaery, who owned the best floral design shop in town, absolutely nuts with his indecisiveness even though they all saw Sansa's dress and Jon was armed with a small sample of the dress fabric (she made her own dress) he took from her room. He wanted everything to be perfect, just as perfect as Sansa. Even with Robb's flirting outrageously with her, Margaery threatened to kick them out of the store when Jon critiqued her choice of ribbon colors and fabric with the ones he ultimately bought along with different colored ribbons that he thought may be complementary with Sansa's dress and coloring.

"But I wanted it to be perfect..."

"And that night was lovely and magical. It was not because of the corsage, which was lovely by the way, or because of my dress - it was because I was with you, dodging your feet from crushing mine." She giggled and reached down to him, kissing his nose, his cheeks, his jaw, and his soft lips.

He could not think as they kissed. He found himself holding her tightly, not wanting to let her go.

"Jon, um, you are kinda crushing me and pulling my hair."

Jon immediately let go and rolled away, disgusted with himself.

"Jon?" Sansa asked as she reached for him. "You did not really hurt me. It's OK. I have too much hair and it totally gets in the way. Yesterday, my swim cap bursted as it could not contain all this hair."

He loved her hair and she knew it, keeping it long so he can kiss it and run his fingers through it. But he knew that her long hair hindered her, making her blue swim caps look ginormous, like the hair style of Marge Simpson she would tease. Jon could not look at her - he was slowing her down, keeping her away from greatness. A year ago, Robb told him about a world famous coach, Tywin Lannister, who wanted her to train in California and remembered with guilt his relief when she and her family decided against such a move.

"Jon, look at me. What is wrong?"

"You could be faster."

"Yeah, and I could also be slower. What are you saying?"

"You could be even faster without me," he finally blurted, eyes blurring with tears.

"No, I am fast with you."

"But you could be even faster if you spent more time in the pool or in the weight room, if you left Alaska and swam full time with Coach B."

"When I make that last turn and power through the last lap, I see you, you waiting for me, and I race so hard because I want to go home, want to be in your arms. I am fast with you. And this [waves to his little mini shrine for her, a small cardboard that has snippets of laminated local news articles and photos of her wins - from her first win in the tadpole division to her recent triumphs at the Trials] this will go away - most swimmers stop competing in their thirties, even in their late twenties - while this [pointing at him and her] will never go away. I love you."

Gads! He was such a fool! Sansa was right that he knew nothing. He remembered her telling him that she started swimming because he and Robb were playing water polo, which shared practice time in the community pool with the swim team. And while she was the greatest swimmer in their school, heck maybe in the world, she would always make a point of telling local (and later national and international) news reporters about her family, her friends, and especially her long time boyfriend, always emphasizing that while she touched that touchpad alone, that there will so many people who love her and support her and help her be the person she is. The win is not hers alone.

Sansa was fast, not despite him - she was fast with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love watching the families and friends cheering their loved ones - it makes me cry.


	70. No buts, no mercy (Stannis, JonxSansa) Olympics Pt 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The night before her first Olympics race, Sansa calls her coach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part of Coming Home series  
> <http://archiveofourown.org/works/7112899/chapters/17225494>

Buzz... buzz... buzz... Could that be the alarm? He could swear he just got in bed and closed his eyes. Seven hells! It was his cell. The number did not look familiar - probably one of his swimmers in trouble. He picked up the cell and pulled on a shirt. Hopefully, he did not need to bail one of the guys out of jail.

"Stannis speaking," he barked.

He heard sniffling and a young girl crying.

His heart stopped - he told his swimmers to take care of each other, especially the Olympics newbies, like Sansa and Tommen, to always travel together and to keep an eye out for each other. Stannis thought he could trust Sansa - she was always with her friends, her family or her team members. When he lectured her about the dangers of being a woman alone in a strange city, she listened wide-eyed and intently and nodded, saying that she was a Stark, a wolf, and she knew that " _When the snows fall and the white winds blow, the lone wolf dies but the pack survives_."

But that was Sansa on the phone! He recognized her gentle breathing, as he spent many hours with her after practices breaking down her strokes. In a short time, she became one of his all-time favorite swimmers, such a perfectionist and such a hard worker yet such a bright light, always brightening any room she entered. Even he loved her pranks, especially the ones she pulled on his assistant coaches, Massey and Davos (as she was wise to not pull any on him).

"Sansa, it will be fine. I am coming. Where are you?" he gentled his voice, trying to calm her and trying to calm himself.

"Coach, I can't do this, stay here... I-I-I need to be with Jon and my family. I am sorry about waking you up but I cannot do this," she cried. "Jon always shave me before every meet..."

He interrupted her, not wanting to think about the shaving. "I understand that you may have pre-meet rituals - things that center you and prepare you for the meet. That is understandable." Stannis heard her intake of breath, expecting a but.

Sometimes he forgot how young Sansa truly was, only two years older than his Shireen who frankly idolized her. Sansa was always so poised and quietly strong. Yet he knew how sheltered she was - her parents shielding her from most of the realities of the world (no TV, no social media, and only recently did they give her a cell phone, the most basic model). Because of her parent's actions, she was in many ways younger than his Shireen, who knew more of the world.

"You just need to tell me beforehand. I can drive you but you need to call your Jon and family to make sure they are there."

"Coach, you don't have to - I could get a ride.."

"No, I will drive you. Call me after your call with Jon." Stannis wanted to make sure she was safely deposited with her family and friends. He got up and rinsed his face, put on his shoes and waited for her call.

Buzz... buzz....

Jon picked his cell before the third ring - it had to be Sansa. He tried to call her before but got a busy signal - probably she was chatting with one of her girlfriends.

"Jon got a booty call!" Theon crowed.

Jon pushed him. "That's Sansa, you arse!"

Robb also pushed Theon and mock glared at Jon, who ignored his friends and locked himself in their bathroom.

"Sansa, sorry about that. Theon is just being Theon."

"I-I-I miss you - can I come over?"

Her voice sounded so small, so sad.

"Sansa, I love you. Of course, but don't you have curfew?" Jon asked.

"Coach is driving me if it is OK with you."

"You can stay with us. I will bunk with Theon, and you can sleep with Robb. OK?"

He heard nothing, just her breathing.

"Sansa, did you just nod? You know I can't see you. [hearing her sheepish giggle] I love you."

"I love you so much. See you soon. Bye."

"Bye."

Robb looked worried when he saw Jon's serious face. Even Theon stopped goofing around.

"Is she OK?" Theon asked.

Shaking his head, he made his bed, replacing the sheets and pillowcases for Robb and Sansa.

Jon was really worried. He remembered her telling him that they were not going to do their shaving routine because of curfew and that she would call him. She sounded so confident. Hearing her so sure, he felt both sad and also so proud of her. The Little Bird was leaving the nest and about to fly.

When Stannis picked her up, she had everything, her small overnight bag and her big swim bag. Her eyes were red as her roommate, Brienne, the veteran and his other favorite, was hugging her.

Sitting in the car, he drove in silence. Normally, that would not bother him as he often chauffeured Shireen around, with her with her earbuds on, listening to her music. But the silence was deafening. He looked at the passenger seat, at the defeated looking Sansa. This would not do. He scowled and ground his teeth.

"You know, erm, everyone has rituals. They are important. It is a way to put some order in the chaos that is life, to feel in control. There is no weakness in that."

He heard a watery sigh.

"I am scared," Sansa whispered.

"Sansa, tell me, are you going to swim your hardest tomorrow?" Stannis asked.

"Of course, I always try my best," she replied.

"And that is all you can do - that is all I can ask of you, all that anyone can ask of you. I know that you will swim your heart out."

"But," Sansa protested.

"No buts. Would the world end if you don't win gold?" he asked.

"No, but," she replied.

"No buts. You try your best and those who really care for you, who love you, are proud of you. I am proud of you."

They arrived. Her boyfriend was waiting outside with a ridiculously large stuffed animal. Rolling his eyes, Stannis turned to her, seeing her bright eyes and watery smile.

"Sansa."

"Yes, Coach."

"You are going to destroy the competition. Remember, no mercy."

He had to smile when he saw her dazzling smile. Before she got out, she quickly turned and reached out to give him a quick buss on his cheek.

"Thanks, Coach B," she whispered as her boyfriend waved to him, thanking him for driving her.

Watching the young couple hug, kiss, and go in with their arms around each other, Stannis could not help but smile. He touched his cheek where her soft lips kissed him - none of his swimmers ever kissed him before. He shook his head and started the car.

As he drove away, Stannis recalled their first one-on-one practice debrief - of him asking her why she would always look up at the end of each set and her responding that was where Jon always sat, cheering her on. This sweet young lady was truly special, and her young man was one lucky man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This the last of my Olympics AU drabbles. I love the coach/coachee dynamics.


	71. Ride (Willas and Sansa)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is for junojelli - I am so sorry for the delay (totally slipped my mind).
> 
> "You can ride again. Do you want to?"
> 
> A continuation of one of my prior fills for the following prompt:
> 
> Willas/Sansa, sexual surrogacy
> 
> After Willas' fall, his father hires Sansa to be his sex surrogate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First part -
> 
> <http://archiveofourown.org/works/6288292/chapters/15568993>

The question was left hanging, like a lure on a fishing rod. If Willas bit on the lure, she would catch him and he knew everything would change, that he could not go back to where he was now.

Looking at himself, deathly pale and bedridden (a voice in his head traitorously hissed 'voluntarily') in his dark room, he realized that where he was was not where he truly wanted to be. What he wanted was to be bathed in the light of her spirit, to hear her sweet voice, to see her smile, to be touched by her.

After the accident and the many surgeries and even more painful "recoveries," he felt less like a man each day. Even though his doctors told him otherwise, he convinced himself that he had no sexual functions, that his cock was as useless as his broken legs. He used to have many sexual fantasies, with beautiful women and men, but it had been so long since he felt that burning arousal that Sansa stoked. Even his negative thoughts of what person would want a cripple did not diminish his desire for her.

He knew that it was so fucked up that he found her being hired to help him made it easier for him to desire her - that there was no fear of rejection. It wasn't that he was such a stud before his accident and had been rejected before as he was not as handsome and kind as his brother or as pretty and feisty as his sister or as exotic as his friend with benefits, Oberyn, who he refused to see after the Accident. It was just he could not handle the rejection now when he was so low.

If he bit, he would want more, he would get hurt. But she was so beautiful and so sweet - her touch felt so good. She would make him feel good.

He realized that there was silence, only the sounds of their breathing, his panting a bit, and she stopped stroking his chest. She was about to remove her hand, and he grasped it.

Looking into her kind blue eyes, he whispered that he wanted to ride. There was not much she had to do to prepare him besides handing him a condom to put on, he was rock hard. When she removed her sundress and her underwear, he moaned as the sun illuminated her curves. She positioned herself atop him. He stared up at this goddess, his hand reaching for her.

"You are so strong," she said as she sank slowly onto him and held his hand.

Willas bucked up uncontrollably as she moved forward and back rhythmically. It felt so good, and her whispers of his strength made him buck and last longer than he thought he would. So so beautiful - her mouth opened, panting and moaning. He moaned how sweet she was, how beautiful, how perfect. Clamping onto him, she held his hands and together they squeezed her sensitive nipples and her clitoris, reaching her orgasm that led quickly to his. Fuck!

Willas held her, stroking her arms, as his heart raced. He felt so alive, felt whole again, and also so grateful, a feeling he hadn't had for such a long time.

"Thank you," he whispered, tears streaming down his face.

He turned away, not wanting her to see him like this. Her fingers wiped some of his tears and turned his face. When he looked in her eyes, he did not see pity or disgust. There was such warmth in her eyes, and her eyes widened when he gently leaned in to kiss her, first softly. It felt so good but he knew that he crossed every line, the one he drew to protect his heart, the line created by her occupation and him being her client, the line even before his accident he drew for his fear of commitment, the line between the stark reality he lived in and the bright fantasy world where he could fly with her, his faery.

He did them both wrong. The despair crashed upon him.

"I am sorry - I should not kiss you," he whispered and tried not to cry.

"I am not."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is sweet porn and not truly about sex surrogacy.
> 
> As a quick note, according to Wikipedia, sex surrogacy is defined as: "Therapy. Some couples attend sexual surrogacy sessions together, while some people (either single or in a couple) attend them alone. The surrogate engages in education and often intimate physical contact and/or sexual activity with clients to achieve a therapeutic goal."


	72. Blue Eyes (Boromir and Sansa)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt
> 
> OMG ----can you IMAGINE if Sansa got dumped into ME and the Fellowship found her? And she saw Boromir and was like "woah....you look just like a younger, hotter version of my dad!" LOL LOL LOL And he was so smitten by her....and her apparent daddy kink....that he resisted the Ring and lived? OMG!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Tommyginger
> 
> Other LOTR inspired drabbles =>
> 
>  
> 
> <http://archiveofourown.org/works/6288292/chapters/15653452>
> 
>  
> 
> <http://archiveofourown.org/works/6288292/chapters/18189925>

What he prided himself on was being decisive and being certain what course of action or direction to take. Boromir was not an intellectual like his brother who studied history, geography and battle strategies. Instead, he heavily relied on his instinct which was honed by his strong common sense and from experience. When he made his decisions in the past, his heart and mind were always in agreement. There was never any conflict and he rarely regretted his decisions, knowing with certainty that he made the best decision he could at the time.

But each day with the fellowship, he felt more and more uncertain of the decision made during the Council of Elrond to destroy the Ring. There was so much power in the Ring, and it should wielded for the good of Middle Earth, to save all of its peoples from the encroaching evil. It should not be destroyed. That is what his heart told him although his alarmed mind warned him that he alone was being influenced by the Ring. That voice in his mind grew more strident each day, reminding him of his weakness and shaming him for it. He felt torn apart.

The only day he felt whole was when an unconscious young lady literally fell into his lap as they rested by the Nimrodel River. Instinctively, he knew that she was to be cherished and protected, and that she, this seemingly frail and delicate flower, would save him from himself. She was a balm to his split soul as finally his heart and mind were finally reunited - he felt complete once more even though he, like the others, were traumatized by the recent loss of the leader Gandalf.

He knew the others, especially Aragorn and Gimli, were suspicious of her strange appearance but the halflings flocked to her trembling body with little Sam checking her condition and clucking in concern. She was as white as a ghost. They knew she was good even though she had not opened her eyes. He hoped that the elves could heal her.

When Haldir initially refused them safe haven as they brought evil with them, Boromir wanted to cry in despair, knowing without their help, she would soon die as he was only able to get her to swallow a small gulp of water. But then the Warden stared at her and came to her, with amazed eyes. Looking as if he was communicating telepathically, he granted them entrance to their kingdom once they rested for the night but he had one of his warriors carry her away.

Worried about her, Boromir could barely concentrate when they were brought before the Lady and Lord of Lothlorien. When the Lady gazed into his mind, she quickly pulled back and then whispered something underneath her breath - he thought she whispered that love will save them all. The other members were taken away, and Lady Galadriel asked him to remain. There was raw power emanating from her which made him afraid yet his fear was tempered by the warm look in her eyes.

She asked one question - 'Do you love her?'

"Yes," Boromir hoarsely whispered.

The Lady led him into a room where his lady was resting. Although she was still asleep, she looked calm and color returned to her face, with her cheeks now rosy and lips deep pink. Without any hesitation, he kissed her lips, and her eyes flew open.

"Father?" she asked as she reached for his hand.

Before he could respond, she turned to the Lady who enveloped her in a hug. Boromir thought he felt the word sister as the two beautiful ladies hugged and laughed with his beauty still holding his hand, as if she could not bear to part with him.

"Lady Sansa is my half sister. She was sent away to keep her safe but the forces of evil still found her. You have brought her home. I thank thee," said the Lady, "She must rest but you will see her again."

The days in Lothlorien were some of his happiest days of his life. Boromir and his sweet lady spent their time in the Lady's private garden, and he made her giggle when he compared her to a summer day. He muffled it with kisses, leaving them both breathless.

But not all the days were sunny. She confessed the terrors she was subjected to in King's Landing, still trembling with fear as she spoke of her family there being destroyed. Her father in that world, who looked like him, was beheaded because of her naive stupidity. Boromir told her that they were monsters to be blamed, not her, as he kissed the scars that did not heal as she kept that shame inside her. Boromir kissed each scar, watching it miraculously disappear as she revealed herself to him until she was completely bare. Her pale alabaster skin glowed.

Kneeling in front of her, he worshipped her as she moaned his name and Daddy and please. Hearing Daddy made him even harder for her, that she, a magical being so full of light and love, wanted him to take care of her. And that night, under the bright stars that paled in comparison to her, he made her his. He was drunk on her - her smell, her touch, her taste and how she keened and moaned when he plowed into her as she hung on, scratching his shoulders and back. It was rough, then tender and slow as she rode him, and then as she was on all fours, hard and deep until he collapsed onto her as both howled like wolves upon completion. He was so tired and sated but before he closed his eyes, he whispered into her auburn tress that he loved her always no matter how far away he was from her.

It was too soon, the morning light calling the new day, the day he would leave her in the care of her kin. Nuzzling her full breasts, he wanted to make them forget of his departure in a few hours. The love they shared was even more tender than the night before. With some regret, she lightly kissed his new scratches she made the night before although he told her that he loved them as they remind him of their night of love. He wore her marks proudly even though the other members of the Fellowship had a difficult time looking at him. Their slumber were disturbed by the loud lovemaking and her moanings of his name.

Unlike the other members of the Fellowship, he did not look into the Lady's mirror as he looked into the clear blue eyes of his lady and saw their reflection. He wanted to be that man she saw, her Daddy, brave, strong and kind.

When the Ring called to him, those calls were whispers drowned by her cries during the throes of passion. He protected the halflings and readily let poor Frodo go without a scratch on his body or even any threat. The brave halfling and his friend had to go where they no longer could follow.

Lying on the ground with arrows embedded near his heart, Boromir felt such overwhelming sadness that his love would fade with his death. He whispered sorry as his eyes closed.

When they opened, he saw her loving blue eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really do not know why I had Sansa as Galadriel's much younger half sister (shrugs). She is the daughter of Feanor and Earwen, sent to Westeros to save her from her cursed beginning. The backstory is ridiculous - sorry!
> 
> And time is different in this story than in Westeros - multiples of 100. So if she was thirteen in Westeros, she is 1,300 years old in Middle Earth. So she is a cougar here (lol).


	73. Today? (Aegon/Sansa)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> * The war of the five kings never happened and Joffery and Sansa got married.
> 
> Aegon invades and deposes King Joffery. But he's not sure what to do with the newly widowed Queen Sansa?
> 
> The common folk love her and she has powerful allies so he can't kill her. He decides to woo the Dowager Queen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Every prompt I personally receive I try my best to fill. This is for pulix who made this request in May (!) when I first started posting my stories. I also posted it in LJ simultaneously.

The King is always right he said underneath his breath, not forgetting that Ser Jon always added the caveat - except when he is deposed. He wanted to keep his head but he lost it already.

Many in his Council thought him a fool for keeping the former Queen by his side, that she would be the death of him. None was foolish enough to suggest her death, fearing his ire for suggesting any harm to her. But some whispered she could be sent away along with her twins as she was a reminder and symbol of the prior regime. That he would never allow - they needed to be with him so he can keep them safe.

The red Queen, for that was who he wished her to be, his wife, was as strong as she was beautiful. Aegon extracted from the courtiers who could not escape the truth about the horrors she experienced at the hands of the man who was fortunate to be her husband. 

It made Aegon feel satisfied that the abomination died slowly and painfully at his hands, knowing that her twins were not his but were of one of Kingsguards who perished in the battle and that he never married the Queen because she was already married to the man she loved. He felt such madness as he cut and burn. Still now, when Aegon remembered Joffrey crying for his mother, he could not keep himself from cackling, and his begging, first to live and then to die. He realized that he was as much a monster as Joffrey, sickly enjoying the suffering of another.

Knowing that he was undeserving of her, could not compete with the memory of her first true husband, he still courted her. The lady was gracious enough to walk with him daily - perhaps she feared him, of what could happen to her babes. But yet she showed no fear although she did not seem to return his affections. She was kind to him as she was kind to others. Lady Sansa was simply a kind soul.

And he thought to himself when it began, his love for her. It was her soft touch on his arm when they first met, when she pled in private for the life of her children, who she said were not of the former King. She married their father in the Godswood in the way of the old gods, with his cloak on her body and their blood combined. That touch - no one had ever touched him with such gentleness before. His guardian Ser Jon Connington stole him away when he was a baby. While loyal, Ser Jon was not affectionate but instead often beat him when he did not meet his guardian's expectations. Ser Jon trained him to be a merciless killer and a powerful king, stressing in him that no one could be trusted. 

But this lady, with her touch and with one look in her eyes, Aegon knew that he could trust her words for she was goodness embodied in human form. She loved her children but there was more. While most mothers would do almost anything to protect their children, she asked to do the unthinkable. She asked that if he were to sentence them to all die, she wanted to be the one who to deliver the sentence - she did not want her twins to suffer. It is then his heart thawed as he remembered his poor mother who did not deserve her horrific fate. 

The new king stayed his hand, and he did not regret his decision even though he knew his deceased guardian would never approve. Ser Jon warned him of the young Stark ladies, how Lady Lyanna brought to ruin his father. It was ironic how history repeated itself, the seemingly same mistakes made over and over again. But yet even if he knew it may be wrong, Aegon could not get enough of his red Queen.

It had been over a year. The lady allowed his kisses on her tiny hands, then her wrists, her arms and finally her full lips only after he pled with her. Every day, he asked her to be his, his Queen; and every day, she demurred and said not today. The King could not help but worry that her not today meant never.

Each day he ruled, he thought not only of the lessons Ser Jon beat into him but the quiet ones his lady taught him, by her kind actions and her ability to forgive but not forget. And he felt that he was becoming more and more deserving of her. He may have reached too far, flew too close to the sun, like the old fables Ser Jon told him to warn him of the dangers of hubris. 

Yet still he hoped.

"Today?"

"Yes, my King."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was listening to David Bowie's new song Lazarus which inspired me a bit. I must sheepishly admit that I at first confused Lazarus with Icarus (rhymes you see) so that is why there is a reference to flying too close to the sun. But later, I thought Aegon went through a transformation of sorts - instead of being merely a vengeful force honed by ser Jon Connington, he became a more benevolent leader - that he was effectively raised again (as I was trying to imply that he was a sensitive and caring child).


End file.
